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    STYLES P

    Super Gangster (Extraordinary Gentleman) 2007 ©

    Star Of The State

    Yo Vinny Idol, what do you call under the underground?
    (Twin Ghost Experience!) YEAH!


    From a hood where niggaz is miserable
    Either gon' dead you or leave you in critical
    Niggaz talkin money then show me the visual
    And then stand right there and get plucked like a chicken feather
    Stickin up the stick-up kids, nigga I'm sick as ever
    The gun is my bitch, and I bet you we stick together
    Stuck like two dogs fuckin
    You must be ready to die, fuckin with me like, you want somethin
    Ring your bell and I have you like "Who call? "
    Smack you with a bat like Pujols, bottom of the ninth
    You don't wanna see me at the bottom of the pint
    Rowdy, be outtie cause I'm a problem for the night
    Problem for your life, leg or arm missin
    I can step it up, have you doubt or your mom missin
    S.P. the Ghost and I'm trom' hittin
    Arm kickin anytime I'm spittin nigga just like a bomb hittin


    Somebody food gettin ate (gettin ate, yeah)
    Somebody gettin robbed for they plate (for they plate nigga)
    You know I go hard for the cake
    When it come to bein hard, I'm the star of the state (nigga what)
    I'm the star - somebody food gettin ate (food gettin ate, gettin ate)
    Somebody gettin robbed for they plate (robbed for they plate motherfucker)
    You know I go hard for the cake (it's the Twin Ghost Experience!)
    When it come to bein hard, I'm the star of the state
    I'm the star


    Yo, yo, yo I'm a tell you how we do on the Island
    Squeeze your girl ass, now what, knock your punk ass off balance
    You can't come through Mickey D's, no burger no cheese
    Find your head missin, do you still want the #3?
    +Big Mac+, large order of 9's, no shake, we got shells
    Pissin on y'all bitches like R. Kell's
    And more or less staple your balls together
    And light you in kerosene, melt your whole face in your sweater
    You see the rubber gloves, thugs
    Nervous doctors play in the E.R., still wind up pullin the plug
    Cause it's a Twin Ghost Experience, flesh and spirit
    We bang, even the dead listen to deadly lyrics
    Make Big turn in his grave, even 'Pac can hear it
    Cochran, on Dirt's death, yo they tryin to appeal it
    But fuck that, all we want is the crack, the cash in bags
    Come through heavy, you might get yapped; motherfucker!




    A lot of niggaz hoped I would die young
    Pitched in the hood hard, want me to Cy Young
    Real sharp words, guess I got me a fly tongue
    Always get high cause I feel high-strung
    I don't buy jewels, I buy haze and I buy guns
    Or they "hear me now" like the dude from Verizon
    Look at my eyes son, you won't see the next horizon
    Kickin that typical rap, despicable rap
    Or to get a hawk in your face, clip in your back
    Guess who, still keep the thing in the sweatsuit
    Hot blood leakin out your face is the best soup
    Food in the kitchen nigga, shit in the restroom
    Wreck when it's wreck time, S.P. the Ghost is five star
    Orders to the death when I rep mine
    King and the queen die, just like chess time
    If I don't kill you now I'll catch yo' ass next time

    2007 ©




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STYLES P Star Of The State lyrics 128176 songs