Warning: session_start(): open(/var/lib/php/sessions/sess_no5jdlevdjvsasoefi2fn82hd2, O_RDWR) failed: No space left on device (28) in /var/www/html/lyricsreg.com/reg.php on line 2

Warning: session_start(): Failed to read session data: files (path: /var/lib/php/sessions) in /var/www/html/lyricsreg.com/reg.php on line 2
8 BALL : Spit lyrics

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 #

8 BALL lyrics : "Spit"

[Verse 1]
Uhh..
I never played the games, $#&@ed hoes and tricks

^!$$%z think with they dick and get hit for licks
We mob for life, straight scarred for life
"Space Age 4 Eva" ^!$$% $#&@ the hype

Hard rounds I bust, crush punks to dust
Weak studio gangsta, you can't $#&@ with us
We live the streets, give streets the piece

Defeat weak emcees and bust heat to eat
My love for change, got me stuck in the game
Got me goin insane, who the $#&@ can I blame?

No you but me, not him but I
Is the one to blame for anything I try
Love life and give, but a trick ain't me

Give (*##$es the dick and give ^!$$%z the heat
Bust flows that kill, homocide for real
Gold grill and trills, you weak ^!$$%z no the deal


[Hook]
Y'all ^!$$%z can't $#&@ wit... the %#@! I spit

Y'all ^!$$%z can't $#&@ wit... what I $#&@ wit
Y'all ^!$$%z can't $#&@ wit... the %#@! I kick
Y'all ^!$$%z can't $#&@ wit... what I $#&@ wit


[Verse 2]
I got a mind for murder, leave ^!$$%z with stitches

Bloody kick in the crown for thinkin this is fictitious
I'ma live for this and I'ma die for this
Eye for eye for this, flip a pie for this

This %#@! is love and hate, ^!$$%z love to hate it
A piece of paper and a ink pen made me straight
God knows I try, every breath I take

Every song I make, is from the heart to the tape
I break and crack flows, build and stack flows
Attack the track flows, back to back flows

You know, I do whatever to get the cash flow
Bust and mash fo' eights in the slab ho
Southern distributer, narcotic deliverer

This %#@! I be throwin up, combustin and blowin up
I told you ^!$$%z this, see now you done got me pissed
Eightball - Fat Boy - murderous lyricist


[Hook x2]


[Verse 3]
Yeah..
I never $#&@ with fakes, these ^!$$%z is snakes

Smile in my face schemin tryna see what they can take
Emcee for life, AK-47 flows
Like Al Capone ^!$$%, I'm showin my golds

Black skin and rocks, hittin (*##$es that bop
Blowin weed on the parkin lot, $#&@ the cops
We crash the scene, fulla tuss' and lean

With my saggin jeans, tryna bag a queen
$#&@ ^!$$%z with blunts, tryna get in my mix
Brown weed fulla seeds, I don't smoke that %#@!

I'm a green fanatic, I should be in a clinic
Talkin to a psychiatrist cuz I know I be trippin
Long nights, fist fights, smoke till we cain't

Life of a hustler, go hard in the paint
The streets, got no heart, and no mercy
I think that's why they call down south dirty


[Hook to fade]

Submit Corrections