Lyrics to Creep [feat. 50 Cent]
[Havoc] thats that creep, creep mode baby we in creep mode dont come around here baby, shinin like that [Verse-Havoc] Its crazy on this side, come thru, gun thru oh ya man live out here, dont go and get comfortable dont know what he told you aint sweet around here and i dont care what he told you aint sweet around here see you ridin that Infinity, now thats not fair is that a 2006?, OK playboy we got walls that aint made all day you comin thru the hood straight dangling state we takin medium-rare, grilled debatin us lettin that slide's not up for debate oh you met, you a local guess what she bait she dont know right now but trust me the bitch bait now gonna get all in the business, that shorty is mad cool my man was diggin at but she a lil bit natural first time we catch you comin out the building we snatch you and takin whats yours, first thing we ask you is [chorus-Havoc] fuck brought ya ass around here like you somebody lookin like the player of the year boy, fuck brought ya ass around here this is Queens lil homie get caught around here fuck brought ya ass around here comin thru for these bitches, shit happen around here fuck brought ya ass around here like niggas got somethin to live for around here [Verse-Prodigy] You ask me all these rappers is bums Hav showed me the flow and i ran with it dun i mean really, yall gotta be the most worst rap shit i ever heard compared to P verse we emerge on the scene everything seems (stop), watch is very bling bling nigga wanna swing swing, very much so but once we get in the air, thats a wrap bro our songs good to go straight to the radio flex easy on the ?? let these niggas hear to flow We americas most dangerous to have fans New York New York, we the kings of the dam we party too much and smoke too much grass and we never see the bright side we only see the bad fuck all that, its alot of niggas dead and i wont let em get me how they got them [Chorus] [Verse-50 Cent] yea cock that, aim that, squeeze that, shoot the steel Cadillac Coupe De Ville, woodgrain on the wheel Cocaine in the pot, baking soda water hot when the ice cubes drop, look at that, thats crack Bag that, nigga stack, black hoody fitted hat grimy nigga with a gat screamin "where the money at" my hood southside, riders ride thats right Yayo he know, Banks know, Buck know shit it aint about the dough i aint really with it yo camaflouge on the low, ridin round with the heat i aint say wassup to you, nigga you dont know me im on the grind all the time, heavy shine and a nine clip fill till the tip, stunt i get on some shit different day different bitch, old hoopdy new kicks oldsmobile fuck that, no rims, hubcaps keep my eyes open for them niggas that dun buck that [chorus]
Songwriters: RAMESH PANT / BAPPI LAHIRI / KEJUAN MUCHITA / ALBERT JOHNSON / CURTIS JACKSON
Publisher: Lyrics © Royalty Network, Universal Music Publishing Group
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Publisher: Lyrics © Royalty Network, Universal Music Publishing Group
Powered by LyricFind