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Bravehearts
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Twilight (Featuring NaS)
Lyricist:K Dean, Michael Epps, Jabari T Jones, Nasir Jones
Yeah, yeah, yeah, let's go, niggas C'mon, nigga
I be dippin' in the twilight with gangstas Smokin' weed up in my ride life, the same stuff It's still a bitch, livin' like I'm rich, bang broads Call me Mr. International, ghetto stars
I be dippin' in the twilight with gangstas Smokin' weed up in my ride life, the same stuff It's still a bitch, livin' like I'm rich, bang broads Call me Mr. International, ghetto stars
Yo, I talk like a champion, walk like a champion Body like a God an' I promise that Nas a hit you off Flow like a gangsta, brum bum bum bum bum Bustin' like dummies, so mami, you come an' lick it off
I stay right, purple hazed out, fifth stay on my hip Blunt stay in my mouth, Patron laid out Tequila sunrisin', five sixes, surprise bitches Nas from the trenches, how does he survive?
This is ten years, here for good, rep for my thugs Plumper than last summer, stomach stretch from the grub Good livin', good women, I fuck wit straight stallions Bowleg stances, go 'head, handsome
What they all scream? My cars' lean Hit up every state, town, city wit my Braveheart team Pretty face, round tits an' ass, stay my queen Keep a burner in the trunk, AR-15
When I'm dippin' in the twilight with gangstas Smokin' weed up in my ride life, the same stuff It's still a bitch, livin' like I'm rich, bang broads Call me Mr. International, ghetto stars
I be dippin' in the twilight with gangstas Smokin' weed up in my ride life, the same stuff It's still a bitch, livin' like I'm rich, bang broads Call me Mr. International, ghetto stars
If you see me, on MTV Don't forget, I'm the same nigga from Q.B. Sittin' on the block, hungry an' starvin' Imaginin' preforming at Madison Square Garden
Or Radio City an' New York City Bring the whole hood wit me, gallons o' Henny My homey got shot right before my eyes I got shot too, but I survived Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com
I was just a teenager, never had a pager I always had flava, chasin' that paper I need them diamonds an' new clothes, pretty hoes That Bentley, Coupe, all red like a rose
An' everybody knows, my gun goes off In the West coast, Dirty South an' up north Jungle, the boss, a natural born hustler I dissed by suckas an' punk mothafuckas
When I'm dippin' in the twilight with gangstas Smokin' weed up in my ride life, the same stuff It's still a bitch, livin' like I'm rich, bang broads Call me Mr. International, ghetto stars
I be dippin' in the twilight with gangstas Smokin' weed up in my ride life, the same stuff It's still a bitch, livin' like I'm rich, bang broads Call me Mr. International, ghetto stars
Nigga, I'm high wit high hopes, fuck the bullshit Stand up in front of that, you get the full clip I beat a nigga senseless, his skin is missin' Listen, my knockouts is six, so serious
Bang wit a B on my chest, y'all niggaz is bitches You touch me an' I'm pullin' your dress, a snitch is a snitch An' I hate y'all niggaz, stomp you out like roaches Can't you see, I'm here to get this paper Just like I'm supposed to?
I've been a Braveheart since semen cesspool, my pop's schemin' One thought to get up in my mom's jeans An' it came to this, it feel like a mothafucka's dreamin' But I'm here, fuck anythin' another nigga thinkin'
See them Bravehearts, damn, those my niggaz You got drama wit 'em? Sleep with yo' gun under the fuckin' pillow This is real thangs, I know shit feel strange How dem Q.B. niggaz do thangs, check this shit, nigga
When I'm dippin' in the twilight with gangstas Smokin' weed up in my ride life, the same stuff It's still a bitch, livin' like I'm rich, bang broads Call me Mr. International, ghetto stars
I be dippin' in the twilight with gangstas Smokin' weed up in my ride life, the same stuff It's still a bitch, livin' like I'm rich, bang broads Call me Mr. International, ghetto stars
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