Without You

David Denny

Score: 8
/
Played: 604

Album:

Bay Area Blues

Genres:

Blues
Blues rock
Rhythm and blues
Bluesrock
Contemporary blues

Moods:

Languages:

Featured by:

Canon1011

Wiki:

Lyrics:

Earn upon approval! {{lyricsContributionDisabled ? '(While you\'re under '+USER_CONTRIBUTION_GAINS_LIMIT.WIKI_LYRICS+' Beats)' : ''}}

[Sample] Tony Starks fights again for survival And by just a thin thread of electric current Wins another victory [Intro: Superb & (Ghostface Killah)] Ugh, c'mon, yeah, c'mon y'all (Bounce wit us) Hip-hop (What? Celebrities, what?) (Street corner) For all my niggas Crack spot niggas *Chip Banks starts to sing "we made it"* Chicken ass mothafuckas, envious bitches Yo, you know what y'all... [Verse 1: Superb] Make me wanna pop something, no champagne Two-five on me, weed and crack on me Bitch motherfucker tried to get a rep' off me Leave him there, never know, get him off me I remember days when we just fucked bitches Bought a lot of clothes and, played the ave Now we rap niggas with a lot of wardrobes And if we want a nigga dead we pay the cash I ain't trying to waste my career on y'all Even scuffle with y'all, waste gear on y'all But if I gotta go out, you know I'ma show out You gon' fuck around and get your whole back blown out I remember on the Island, Cay tone out In the Mess Hall hall, about to zone out Dumb motherfuckers with our microphone out We just dumb motherfuckers with our microphone out [Verse 2: Chip Banks] See.. see.. see, see me I roll with Ghost and Cats that carry they toast make the post and Front page and, center-staging When it's time to bust off them things, it ain't a game man We rocked out own diamond rings, see them 'bling, bling' Got big boy toys, push sixes Dime bitches, told y'all before we import those Jury stay froze, court cases get closed Niggas hate Nino 'cause how fast I rose up Like George Jefferson and 'em, stepping on 'em The headline read, "Starks had the weapon on him" And the vest, what y'all expect? He a vet Plus the best, now tell me how we gon' fail When we dealing with 'Supreme Clientele [Chorus: Superb] From Rikers Island to the Cayman Island We thugs like, life is the same challenge Do the knowledge, recognize your talent And if you live the streets, you better stay silent From Rikers Island to the Cayman Island We thugs like, life is the same challenge Do the knowledge, recognize your talent And if you live the streets, you better stay silent [Verse 3: Ghostface Killah] Yo, spotted at The Mirage, Ghostface swarmed by groupies Mingle among stars, I come in cat, invades Mars Highlight of the century, first bet placed upon entry Fainted when the book mentioned me Keep balling, new systems, high sciences Drop that, Ghost listening, track sizzling Angelica, Judy Plum for bitches, Goines king of the century Best sellers for niggas, stay together Posted up trucks, leaning on the Benz cinemax smile Shot in thirty-five lens you program Broke bottles of Dom, seven inch bangles, back breakers I'm a dope fiend, look at my arm, Popeye strength Rap with a British accent, Gucci clothes Dennis Coles in the latest fashions blow backs in Flip raps like forty-eight bundles Dinner plates, deadly front gates, celeb Bryant Gumbel [Verse 4: Hell Razah] Analyze This shit like De Niro Words in your center ear hole Blocks of ice like Sub-Zero, we been right since day zero Shatter your soul like glass windows Turn virgins to nymphos, pop these hollows At fake cats in a Tahoe Wild out, throw your liquor bottles At hood rats to the richest models We conversate like Christ and the Twelve Apostles And life without you, held counsel with great men To murderers in the state pen Being caged in the wages of sin Before they read up they pop our tape in You ain't gotta tuck you chain in 'Cause here we want the head of Satan Doo-rags and our pants hanging *Chip Banks starts to sing "we made it" again* [Outro: Ghostface Killah] Uh-huh, uh-huh that's right y'all Street corners, jail niggas Riker's Island, Ge-Grey Haven Big Un, that's right y'all Word up, all y'all, all y'all crumbs We made it, nigga step the fuck off True indeed, true indeed Yeah, Ready Red, that's right, my nigga Born That's right yo, Lil' Free in the feds That's right, you'll be home nigga Yeah, we made it Yeah, C Allah, word up That's fam Yeah, check it out, Staten Island True indeed, Five boroughs Check it, uh-huh