Soundtracks: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

List of artists: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #


Music Video


You Making Trouble


Conejo Lyrics

 

You Making Trouble Lyrics

You Making Trouble by Conejo


Satan of course originated from heaven he was one of
the commanders of the heavenly army, but he defected
Thee idea is that he fell down like ah star from
heaven
You making trouble, you better tone that down
Cus muthuf**ka you ain't knowing how we hose it down
Ese council to the ground, say smoke that clown
And 9 out of 10 you gon' f**ken drown
Like an og, is how I dose it
Lose no sleep let me light up ah cousin
Un primo, 1 double 0
Late night walking out River Palms Casino
And my freestyle, is worth ah kilo
Big C Roca straight Angelino
No cappuccino, I'm on some water and bread
And when I get stressed out your b**ch giving me
head
Iselas quieren guerra pero no la declaran
And when I bring it to 'em ain't no way que la para
At the point, of no return
I could feel the flames of hell when he started to
burn
Ese musica asesina I'm ah f**ken assassin
Midnight homicide Rabbit killing with passion
Heat stashing, the price keep passing
The homies don't play so they keep on blasting
No eres nada, y no tienes entrada
My pimp game sick como si fuera espada
I slice you, and cut you down in portions
Sell 'em back to your fam I'm ah pro with extortions
I'm ah gangsta, I got my balls and my word
And I fly though the skies like ah mythical bird
The pot stirred, till it come back hard
Up in front of thee apartments slanging dope to the
cars
Or where ever you are I can make it reach
Ain't no place on the planet, that's out of reach
I besiege, any f**ken corner
You can ask any smoker I'm ah f**ken earner
With ah burner, foo I live this way
Homie 6 feet deep is where the enemy lay
He talk loud, but he ain't saying nothing
Ese Bandit pulled up in the Escalade bumping
Then I jump in, I could tell he was puffing
That medical sh*t, I could tell he was buzzin'
What you clutching, ah P 2 2 9
Sig Sauer 10 round behind enemy lines
My nuts hanging, ese down to the floor
And these crooked ass cops knocking on my door
Nobody home, did you check the morgue
Cus if I faked my death, more than once before
Ah lunatic, on that felony sh*t
It's an eye for an eye cus I'm G with it
I move quick, when I'm robbing for coke
Ese gotta f**ken do it cus I hate being broke



A-Z Lyrics Universe

Lyrics / song texts are property and copyright of their owners and provided for educational purposes.