Dukedagod More Than Music Instrumental

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  • Опубліковано 13 лис 2008
  • DukeDaGod:
    Yo it's DukeDaGod
    It's still more than music
    Dipset in the building, let's do it
    Verse 1
    Juelz Santana:
    Been riding clean
    Two hundred thousand dollar machines
    Capital B with the wings
    Flyin' in a flying spur
    Grippin' on a iron berg, I in hurr
    Shorty in dem designer, jeans
    Damn, baby you lookin' kinda scrumptous
    What are those Citizens Rocker Republics
    Antique jeans, I'm a antique fiend
    Let my antique sag off my antique ass
    Crack for me, I'm back indeed
    Bitch I'm all about my paper like a fax machine
    On track like half your weed
    Spit crack, two half a keys, that's a key
    You can serve that to fiends
    That be me, Santana
    I'm ballin' like an athlete
    You niggaz stinkin' it up like athlete's feet (Ill)
    Yep, yep, I'm higher than the clouds
    Flyer than the owl, hyper than the crowd
    Screaming out liud, tell ya bitch calm down
    There's no competitor better than a nigga like me
    Etcetera, etcetera
    I'm the hottest out, better check my temperature
    Thermometer popped, can't check my temperature
    Nope
    Hook
    J.R. Writer:
    You couldn't run wit' us
    Listen, you don't stunt enough
    I get it down, get it down, but my money up
    Throw a couple bucks, show you how a baller do this
    Lemme walk you through it, yup, it's more than music
    Verse 2
    Hell Rell:
    Drip, drip, baby that's the candy paint
    Falling off the Ferrari while blowin' danky-dank
    Love beef so I got my shooters on deck
    On the ice so I threw the whole cooler on my neck
    I take 'em to Divas, straight from a no-name hoe
    But take 'em to my hood, show 'em my cocaine flow
    They say this your other profession
    Don't worry 'bout what I'm sellin'
    Askin' too many questions, just carry my Smith & Wesson
    Married to gettin' fresh, ya see this rock on my hand
    What it cost me, ya know, a brick, about 1000 grams
    Listen homie I'm the man, there's nothing you can tell me
    Some many on ya head, 20 grand on the skully
    Where do you shop, never seen those jeans
    And I keep it G'd up like I'm Gino Greene
    Ruger out in the streets, you see me grind
    And the chrome rims shine on that DP-9
    It's Mr. Ruger
    Hook
    Verse 3
    Juelz Santana:
    Cats talkin' 'bout it's time to give the winner some
    Slow down boy, it's time to give the kid a run
    Paper chaser, paper spender
    And I was built for the ballin' like the Staples Center
    Can I get a what what, maybe a ooh ooh
    But for my homies out there, maybe a Soo-Woo Soo-Woo
    Catch me riding round on the prowl
    Lookin' for some girls gone wild
    I put your chick int eh Coupe, and she thick and she cute
    They love it when I hit the button, dismiss the roof
    Damn, we just had a hardtop
    Now look, this car got a bald spot
    While your jaw drop, her draws drop
    Damn, shorty got a bald spot
    I'm rock-n-roll like Guns & Roses
    The consequences of my guns is roses
    I reload just to un-reload it
    Life's a bitch and yep, we bonin', we open
    Hook

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