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Top Songs By Lil Jon & The East Side Boyz
Lyrics
Aww yeah ya know it was real hanging out wit y'all motherf**kers
On this here album right
But this motherf**ker bout over and uh
Time for me to get the hell on
Been in the studio, the motherf**king sun coming up
In this bitch, motherf**ker, been in this motherf**king studio
Working hard on this motherf**king album
(Background vocals from Lil' Jon & Big Sam come in)
What up B-leech, goddamn Sleet as usual in the motherf**king studio
Kit, all the boys higher den a motherf**ker
We got Tim over there f**king up shit
Ha, ha, but like I said time to get up out this album knowhaimsayin
Hope y'all enjoyed this motherf**ker
It was a lot of hard work putting this bitch together
Go look out for them, LG's, my girl Chyna Whyte
And who knows what else to motherf**king expect
From the motherf**king BME ya little Biatch
(Chyna Whyte)
It's one time for my soldiers on the front line
Strapped with AKs, and car bombs
With K-nine blood lines
It's one time for my killers on the front line
Strapped P-nines and semi-autos
Actin like it's no tomorrow
(Chyna Whyte)
To survive in this world makes me a soldier
Cause I wear Reeboks, nigga why, cause they colder
Every 3 years I battle my fans thug years
Now I shed tears, nigga, I ain't happy here
Like pot, so I blow herb thinking it'll stop the pain
When I come down I'll still be left with the strain
So I stay high so my eyes can stay dry
And I don't give a f**k why
Nigga I was born to die
In the club head tight off of gin and kiwi
Camouflage and dimes so the niggas can't see me
Tellin em my name Le-Le or Lisa
Breaking them walls the Visa 9-millimeter
Sha-sha click, cock it, rock it
Nothing but the Reeboks and poppin
Nuttin but motherf**king nines and
Bump, bump, you be running like Forrest Gump
Knock you on yo ass like Humpty Dump
Chyna Whyte leaves niggas in a slump, serial
Deadly like disease venereal
Game as be RD imperial
Pumpin through your stereo, nigga what you know
Ain't no log when that fo'-fo'
Ejaculate up in your fo' door
Bitch die slow, lyrical calico
Purple tablets I flow
None want war, Gambino
Emptyin clips, I rips
Motevl I flips
Words comin off the lips like Teflon's hips
IT'S ONE TIME!
Writer(s): Jonathan Smith, Todd Shaw, Stephanie Martin
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