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Tantrum T.A. - 50 Feet (feat. Sleepy West) Lyrics



Tantrum T.A. - 50 Feet (feat. Sleepy West) Lyrics
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Who wanna come outside and play
Keep my name outta yo' mouth there's a price to pay
Hearin' alotta lame pricks talkin' that and this
Got the homie Tantrum on this West Coast hit
Give me 50 feet booiii, you don't want no problems
Gettin' street fame and they hate so we squash em'
Trippin' on us, they see us rippin' the mic
Trippin' on us, best we terminate on sight
We out and goin' on this paper chase
You might have some gutta flows but I can see that you're fake
Homie we don't fake it, we just spit what we see
Big Sleepy & Tantrum representin' I-N-G
Inglewood and you know what it is
Never start shit that yo ass can't finish
You're friends wanna kill me they wanna execute me
But when I I roll up thru they block they be runnin' from me
Yeah! I'm just being real honest
I know you got cash what you got up in yo pockets
Woopty woo about yo shit
And now you like my style
You better give me space asshole I ain't yo pal!
Yo, it's L.I.F.E.L.E.S.S
We break bitches to make riches
Catch a hater slippin' bad news I'm tré grippin'
Empty out a whole clip and leave his face drippin'
I click clack and blat blat then waist hip it
Put the heat back up underneath the Louis belt
The hoes love me, my swag make they coochie melt
Some wanna f*ck me, and some wanna marry me
But I'm ' bout my bread so I'll only marry Sara Lee
Yeah! I stay where that scrilla be
Tell them hoes to back u and gimme 50 feet
You act up that Mag tucked but it's in my reach
Tear ya ass up, yo plasma'll paint the city streets
I'm a straight macaroni boi I'm a gettin' cheese
I'm in my own category something in between
A West Coast thug wit' a Down South unique flow
So haters gimme 50 feet, no Yao Ming toe (Damn!)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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Who wanna come outside and play
Keep my name outta yo' mouth there's a price to pay
Hearin' alotta lame pricks talkin' that and this
Got the homie Tantrum on this West Coast hit
Give me 50 feet booiii, you don't want no problems
Gettin' street fame and they hate so we squash em'
Trippin' on us, they see us rippin' the mic
Trippin' on us, best we terminate on sight
We out and goin' on this paper chase
You might have some gutta flows but I can see that you're fake
Homie we don't fake it, we just spit what we see
Big Sleepy & Tantrum representin' I-N-G
Inglewood and you know what it is
Never start shit that yo ass can't finish
You're friends wanna kill me they wanna execute me
But when I I roll up thru they block they be runnin' from me
Yeah! I'm just being real honest
I know you got cash what you got up in yo pockets
Woopty woo about yo shit
And now you like my style
You better give me space asshole I ain't yo pal!
Yo, it's L.I.F.E.L.E.S.S
We break bitches to make riches
Catch a hater slippin' bad news I'm tré grippin'
Empty out a whole clip and leave his face drippin'
I click clack and blat blat then waist hip it
Put the heat back up underneath the Louis belt
The hoes love me, my swag make they coochie melt
Some wanna f*ck me, and some wanna marry me
But I'm ' bout my bread so I'll only marry Sara Lee
Yeah! I stay where that scrilla be
Tell them hoes to back u and gimme 50 feet
You act up that Mag tucked but it's in my reach
Tear ya ass up, yo plasma'll paint the city streets
I'm a straight macaroni boi I'm a gettin' cheese
I'm in my own category something in between
A West Coast thug wit' a Down South unique flow
So haters gimme 50 feet, no Yao Ming toe (Damn!)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Adrian Gonzalez, Benjii Banks, Moe Gaines, Sleepy West, Tantrum T.A.
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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