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lirik lagu death row – lunar c

[intro: lunar c]
yo (hashfinger)
yo

[verse 1: lunar c]
you man are puff, i’ll make it feel gritty
i’m suge knight, some of you rappers are scared, but you’ve gotta deal with me
get beat up over biting like bart simpson’s t**th
my stuff at your yard, but i aren’t trick or treatin’
told my b*tch, “you don’t need to know my past” (nah)
and i don’t want to go into it, like my overdraft
i don’t care ’bout your weight, age, or your skin tone (nope)
but i can only f*ck with the nympho
yo, karats in my t**th like i’m bugs bunny
thc syrup in my slush puppie
fifteen minutes of fame, that ain’t enough for me
they never taught you not all money is good money
having a mental breakdown in a bar ’cause these fans can’t mentally break down any bars
dealer just came ’round with some bud to give me
and i’m smoking on the house like a f*cking chimney
time goes so fast, but i just go with it
pop a polo tag and make a roach with it
and keep releasing this fire until i’m blue in the face like the queen on the fiver [?]

[verse 2: lefty]
(hmm) b*tches death row (what?)
let me go, let me get involved (yeah)
i rock kappa head to toe, let me get up in my zone (uh)
pulled up with the bros, what you need? let me know (let me know)
egyptian b*tch, she got camel toe (what?)
the flow cold, leave ’em froze
london to bradford (ah)
k!ll a n*gga standing (yeah), this gang sh*t
got your baby mama ‘pon the mattress (whoops)
she don’t feint, nah, she ain’t an actress, uh
check my stature
leave her wrapping like a statue
beat a n*gga black blue (why?)
table in the back room (why?)
let me get a glass of red (sippin’)
leave your boy with half a head (wicked)
my new b*tch cook good, just like it’s masterchef (yeah)
baby, pass the blem, let me go again
everyday same sh*t, it never end (it never ends, uh)
we don’t pretend (we don’t pretend)
[verse 3: p solja]
yo! (yo)
there’s two packs in the black beamer (westside)
i’m the next crack dealer (ha)
mix the dope with the concealer, turn the b*tch co*signer (co*signer)
her p*ssy full of coke diamonds
they call me p when i’m on block
or j when i’m on strip (yeah)
i’ll drag him out his new whip, just for acting hard (acting hard)
normally i swag on beats, but lunar’s got me rapping bars
i’m impact like crashing cars (yeah)
yo, i’m the hardest and i meant it
i used to keep a carver by the benches
i’m a charva from the trenches (i am)
you can’t tell me ’bout cement mix
i even chilled with pablo pressing benz’s (come on!)
there’s people saying i should rap more (rap more)
i was in a party full of crack wh0res for .2, give me ‘dat score
get the shock from the hammer, but i’m not thor
i know you p*ssy n*ggas want more (easy)

- lunar c

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