Two Hoes They In The Telly Lyrics

July 5, 2024, 10:26 am

Writer/s: Christopher Jasper, Christopher Wallace, Ernie Isley, Marvin Isley, O'Kelly Isley, Ronald Isley, Rudolph Isley. To pay us a little visit, and check us out". Tell you anything you wanna hear right about now. How I'm clockin G's.. You never see bank like Frank White. Uhh.. Lil' Cease.. yo, yo, yo.

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Next two years, I should see about a billion. Move over Lucifer, I'm more ruthless, huh. Like blaow when I hit em, the nigga shit his drawers. Words as potent as the blunt smoking Bed-Stuy bandit. He is, he is.. (B. baby, he is c'mon). A nigga been nutted, shorty kept on suckin' more. Yeah.. uh-huh.. Two hoes they in the telly lyrics.com. yeah). Some pied pipers, squeezin life out y'all. I got seven Mac-11's, about eight,. Niggas see the ring, baguettes to death.

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Biggie Smalls, the pussy stroker. Ain't that a slut (HELL YEA) she even take it in the butt. Everything is my own shit cause I don't fuck with scrubs. But the nurses is lovin me. I'm shootin babies, no ifs ands or maybes. My, Eastside lifestyle is way foul, move the crowd. They call me Flintstone and my homie's born Rubble. Leave your toothless, you'll kibbitz, I'll flip it. And hit the door you came through. We on some Brooklyn - Oakland, California shit (beotch! Lyrics for Big Poppa by The Notorious B.I.G. - Songfacts. Two doors on the Bentley, stunt on a nigga if you let me. Twist your body {*singing*} round and round, upside down. Straight up honey really I'm askin' Most of these niggas think they be mackin' but they be actin Who they attractin' with that line, "What's your name what's your sign? " Hook up with Juve and Skip, go and get me a brick.

Two Hoes They In The Telly Lyrics

Girls call my telephone just to hang up. Yes, flex at the two or three Benzes. Fat like a Lexus coupe, I'll rip your troop. Most of my niggaz cuckoo, easy to gas to shoot you. That's how the fuck you went to jail last time nigga. Two hoes they in the telly lyrics. I bust a cap for the brothers in Nap Nap, Comstock, and Clinton. Two pounds of hash in the stash. C'mon, yo, throw your hands c'mon. Niggaz spit be counterfeit, robbery come actually. All up in Crooklyn, bad bitches are lookin. I roam in Lexuses and Benzes, the fly way. Life is real, so Biggie take the steel. And the enormous fields disperse of rap.

So I grab it, never run, the outcome.