Sheek Louch, Aspects, Swisha T - This Life lyrics

[Sheek Louch, Aspects, Swisha T - This Life lyrics]

Sour pills, hash flour
Around with my gun cock
I’m movin by the hour
Hand on the steering wheel ice in my
Call my niggas up
Tell em on my way to Ottawa
Gun down, rose and patron
Sprinkle coke all over the table
Get these hoes in the zone
It ain’t nothin on TV if
I’m watchin The Throne
You gon see me with a bad
Bitch that I ain’t boned
Two rugas, razor on the sharp and the krugers
Buck fifty to the face
Make rappers quit like Mase
Been movin coke for years
And I ain’t even catch a case
Lox is OGs and ain’t no nobody take her place
I seen niggas come and go
Now they wearin skinny jeans all tight
Lookin gay at their show
I got keys like a janitor
Bandana, ridin on these niggas
Let me ask you what’s fuckin with Canada

You ain’t never been about this life
You ain’t never been about this game
You a fuckin bitch
Yea we hustle every day and night
Me and you know we’re not the same
You can suck my dick
Fuck you and your bitch ass crew
What the fuck are you gonna do
Man you won’t do shit
You ain’t never been about this life
You ain’t never been about this game
You’re a fuckin bitch

True story dog

Bitch I need to see gwap
Find me at the weed spot
Fuckin with these street cops
The street’s hot
So I keep the pumps just like Reeboks
Watch eagles swoop down
All these little peacocks
When we drop the streets pop
So homie please stop thinkin that you hot
When you not, cause we got
The street on lock
Like D Block, fuck a detox
When the heat pops through ya face like
Call it a light dose move away like lipo
With this tight flow
I might, go a little psycho
And cut your fuckin ear off like
Like reservoir dogs fuck what you heard
Just check the repertoire ya’ll we get it on

On that kill or be killed
That’s why we comin on strong
We keep it comin, keep it gunnin
Cookin on top of the oven
If you want somethin for nothin
Get the step because we run this


I’m headlining you the guest appearance
The question here is why the
Fuck is you rappin
I don’t respect your lyrics
A couple punches but the rest generic
I just inherit everythin I learned from Pac
To resurrect his spirit
The throne is mine bitch you
Ain’t gettin near it
Cause what you sayin on your
Records makes me laugh, hysteric lee
We two niggas, a necessity
Especially, I crack a blunt like open sesame
I got the recipe
Trust me dude I doubt that’s
Somethin you're accustomed to
My lust for luda has got me
Robbin drug dealers and prostitutes
I’m off my rocker, call the doctor
I got lots to conquer
Mama always said that life was often
Like a box a chocolates
I’m still puffin that sticky budge
Just to pick me up i’m sick as fuck
Of course you puke and
Urine through sippy cups i had enough bodies
But you can catch first
You haven’t heard or seen a
Massacre that’s even happened worst

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