Edge lyrics
Song information
Artist: Shyne Album: Godfather Buried Alive
Lyrics
[Verse 1] Uh uh, uh, uh Ayo, mac 10s and fake friends Lawyers little game homicide 25 what the fuck a nigga facin But I'm still trill, still holdin Rollin gully until I'm frozen, closed in a box with embalming fluid Veins pumpin ice First and 15th keep that caine pumping right Hard white, cold cash Hold fast, fold fast, through the city so gas No ass Straight head bitch, I'm running from the feds Fuck comma raps, sam giancana All I got in this world is my fifth dick and nana Gangsta mannerism lyrical vandalism Niggaz be burnin up their guns until the fucking hammers hit 'em Who need help? Well until then I'ma take that mac off the shelf And hold these fucking streets hostage Blowing smoke out my nostrils Every breath is a step to a untimely death
[Hook 2x] I wanna know where to go Need a place in my mind I can rest Cause this time is running out for my flesh Dried up, sittin' in a chair fried up
[Verse 2] You know me; I don't need no introduction in this Big gun, big dick, half of a mill on the wrist Sittin in my continental thinkin' about potential connects I live it all, just pencil the best Parts of the life of a quintessential hustler When I pull a slide back Motherfuckers be hoping they faces don't get left open You understand? Shirt soaking, brain smoking left in the ocean floatin' Shyne po, dough, stack, y'all rap niggaz is trash I don't give a fuck how much records you sold Tryin' to be me Keep it real dog, you dyin to be me You wanna know how it feel, don't you? To have a murder charge, tote guns at american music awards And live life against odds Doing 170 screaming "fuck the world" (gangsta get outta the car)
[Hook 2x]
[Verse 3] Where the fuck them niggaz at? we gonna handle this beef Turn your mic off bitch; see me in the street Fuck peace 'til I'm restin in the [dried up flesh is finish]? I don't know how to chill til I'm in the morgue Dysfunctional, highly uncomfortable paranoid Without the extra clip (bitch), try me I'll puncture you Had niggaz waking up with wings in their backs, halos in their head like "Ayo I'm dead" Can a knight fucking princess diana type Vana white, vane light, pen I write cold, hand of ice They said too much for the motor mind to comprehend Walk wit me, pause take a breath (lets go) Things ain't just the same for gangstas Secret indictments fucking up the game for gangstas [?] charges tryin to arraign a gangsta Through it all I maintain my gangsta
[Hook until fade]
[from http://lyrics.doheth.co.uk]
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