\"Lyrics
SEARCH HERE:
BROWSE 409412 LYRICS BY ARTIST/BAND NAME:
#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
SITE MENU
Last Updates
Request Lyrics
Submit / Correct
Popularity Charts
VISITORS
Login / Register
Your Thoughts
My Playlists
[ More Ransom lyrics ]
add to playlist     see a mistake?    comment

Artist/Band: Ransom
Lyrics for Song: Can I Live
Lyrics for Album: Other Songs - Ransom



I've been having some deep thoughts when that L blowin'

Niggas in jail know it when you do it

Do it yourself and never tell no one

You see them shells blowin'? I go to hell knowin'

That I had them eagles sitting down like Terrell Owens



I spell evil backwards, I gotta live

If money's the root to evil then fuck it, I'm an evil bastard

You know that diesel acid when it reach the masses

I swear to God, it'll burn, turn these streets to ashes



Dope in the charger, still smoking, L's laughing

I'm coaching 'The Carter' call me Samuel L. Jackson

Niggas been fags, funny like Sinbad

Me, I'm from the hood, my life savings in a gym bag



I'm flamin' the 40, I ain't even sorry

If you with your kids then I put your brain on your shorty

I ain't open that damn block for the fame and the glory

I was hoping to Jamrock's like Damien Marley



Ayo, I'm living better, second letter with a set of wings

Butter leather, hoody sweater and some better bling

Black beretta, these niggas better not have said a thing

For the cheddar, I'm not a forgetter or regret a thing



I could get her, don't have to sweat her or to get her things

I could dead her or feel better just to let her cling

When you met her she was better than Coretta King

Y'all lived together, she was gonna get a wedding ring



She chose me and blows me like she owes me

You knows me, I take whatever life throws me, shows me

Girls don't like boys, they like cars, money and some of that good smoke

Kush jars of 20, tell a few good jokes

But it's far from funny when you in the hood broke



But see I understand what makes niggas underhand

So I put a hundred grand just to put you on the land

This ain't what you wanted man



I'm a problem for every rapper breathing, on every track I'm eating

It's a fact I'ma be a factor and wrap the season

I pull my strap and squeezing

Come out with a pack of demons that'll leave the pastor bleeding



You ain't gotta ask the reason, I know it's jack or scheming

You can see the tiger stripe J from a mile away

Yellow white and glasses geaming

Chain's so sick I don't need a piece for it

I can hear the streets talking, I dare you to reach for it



I'm strapped if you look closely you can see the Taurus

Hate niggas that keep talking, they usually be informants

That Brooklyn bullshit, you better believe, I'm on it

You know if my team would wanted

(Flow)

Put G's up on it



But naw, I don't get along with these rapping cats

They mad my chain the same size as their platinum plaques

That's a fact, let me get mine then after that

I'm completely done with rap, you cats can have it back



Heaven hammering sport thoughts for the winter

Summer thoughts for the winter

These long john weather fiends come in shorts in the winter

Sure it snows in the winter, hope you getting my drift

And you should hold your head back when you getting the drip



Drip the little grip, I could cover the order

When I floss, I'm a boss, I could front you a quarter

See the cross all flooded, little stones in the border

And I just got a divorce so I'm looking for Run's daughter



Tell the Rev that I'm dealing with some evils

The sunshine on him 'cause the coupe still a see through

Danky women, Antik Denim

His pockets gotta be nauseous, the man's keep spinnin'



Trickin' on niggas, throw a lil' kiddie on 'em

My niggas'll seek 'em, they empty out the semis on 'em

You'd rather spit on God then go against him

They was second guessing then squad up convinced 'em



They can't take me in a dark gray Jag

Seats the same leather as the Mark J bag

Jaz, the kind of bitch that the Narcs may tag

'Cause I'm bringing the kind of butter like Parque had



Y'know, I ain't a hoe that'll want a nickel of herb

The street bitch need a stack that's as thick as a curb

And you might catch a chick in the 'burbs

Maybe 'cause I'm nice with the nails, and slick with the verbs



Yeah, it's Ms. Jizzaz, fizzaz to spizzaz

I'm like better shabizzaz with a little pizzaz

I wasn't sworn in just to join in

Been family since the moment that I was born in



And getting money is hereditary

That California kush got my eyes red as cherry

These bitches waiting on their next payday

I'm in the XK8 with the body of an ex-Playmate

And I'm still holding the SK straight, nigga


Album Lyrics: Other Songs - Ransom


Ransom
"Other Songs - Ransom"


1. Brraaattt
2. Can I Live
3. Family Reunion
4. Long Time Comin'