Lyrics Edge - Shyne
(Verse
1)
Uh
uh,
Uh,
Uh
Ayo,
mac
10s
and
fake
friends
Lawyers
little
game
homicide
25
with
the
fucking
nigga
face
'em
But
I'm
still
trill,
still
holdin
Rollin
gully
until
I'm
froze,
close
in
a
box
with
a
bomb
in
fluid
Veins
pumpin
ice
First
some
15
keep
that
king
pumping
right
Hard
white,
cold
cash
Hold
fast,
fold
fast,
through
the
city
so
gas
No
ass
Straight
head
bitch,
I'm
one
a
from
the
feds
Fuck
comma
raps,
same
G
and
canna
All
I
got
in
this
world
is
my
fifth
dick
and
nana
Gangsta
mannerism
lyrical
vandalism
Niggaz
be
burnin
up
their
gums
until
the
fucking
hammers
hit
'em
Who
need
help?
Well
until
then
I'ma
take
that
mac
off
the
shelf
And
hold
the
fucking
street
hostage
Blowing
smoke
out
my
nostril
Every
breath
is
a
step
to
a
non-time
in
death
(Hook
2X)
I
wanna
know
where
to
go
Need
a
place
in
my
mind
I
can
rest
Cause
this
time
is
running
out
for
my
flesh
Dried
up,
sittin'
in
a
chair
fried
up
(Verse
2)
You
know
me;
I
don't
need
no
introduction
in
this
Big
gun,
big
dick,
half
of
a
meal
on
the
wrist
Sittin
in
my
continental
thinkin'
about
potential
connects
I
live
in
all,
just
pencil
the
best
Parts
of
the
live
of
a
quintessential
hustler
When
I
pull
a
slide
back
Motherfuckers
be
hoppin'
their
faces
don't
get
left
open
You
understand?
Shirt
soaking,
brain
smoking
left
in
the
ocean
floatin'
Shyne
Po,
dough,
stack,
y'all
Rap
niggaz
is
trash
I
don't
give
a
fuck
how
much
records
you
sold
Tryin'
to
be
me
Keep
it
real
dog,
you'll
die
to
be
me
You
wanna
know
how
it
feel,
don't
you?
To
have
a
murder
charge,
took
gun
to
the
American
Music
Awards
And
live
life
against
stars
Doing
170
screaming
"FUCK
THE
WORLD"
(gangsta
get
outta
the
car)
(Hook
2X)
(Verse
3)
Where
the
fuck
them
niggaz
at?
We
gonna
handle
this
beef
Turn
your
mic
off
bitch;
see
me
in
the
street
Fuck
peace
'til
I'm
rest
in
the
dried
up
flesh
is
finish
I
don't
know
how
to
tell
until
I'm
in
the
morgue
Dysfunctional,
highly
uncomfortable
paranoid
Without
the
extra
clip
(bitch),
try
me
I'll
puncture
you
Had
niggaz
waking
up
with
wings
in
their
backs,
halos
in
their
head
like
"Ayo
I'm
dead"
Can
a
knight
fucking
princess
Diana
type
Vane
wives,
vane
light,
pen
I
write
cold,
hand
of
ice
They
said
too
much
for
the
motor
mind
to
comprehend
Walk
wit
me,
pause
take
a
breath
Things
ain't
just
the
same
for
gangstas
Sleeping
in
diamond,
it's
fucking
up
the
game
for
gangstas
While
charges
tryin
to
ring
a
gangsta
Through
it
all
I
maintain
my
gangsta
(Hook
until
fade)
1 Buried Alive Intro
2 Quasi O.G.
3 More Or Less
4 More or Less
5 Shyne
6 For The Record
7 Martyr
8 Jimmy Choo
9 Godfather
10 The Gang
11 Edge
12 Here With Me
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