Swollen Members - Weight lyrics

rate me

Ayo my cocaine grimey like Colgate

And when Christ comes, I'm a go relocate

Finish off them dimes, big slabs of crack, write in my gangsta's will

Burry me at the plate in Bronx Bombersfield

Give my young gods the four horses

My baby girls get the pink Porches

Dookie gems and they're all gorgeous

King Tone had a mean fortress

Of french maids blowing me down like Ferra Faucet

My gun collection is big in the Adolf section

My little mini me heat bump off the?

Mostly known for my earlobes

Four million dollar disco balls, I shit dough

My wrist cut bang glass on the crystal floor

At Club Shizznit with Romey Rome, just came home

Violated parole selling cell phones, with a Snoop Dogg perm

His brother puff sherm through to and big worm

Weight, pop pop pop, money fold up

Weight, pop pop pop, pockets swolled up

Say what, say what, just roll up

What's the hold up, unload and reload up

Hell fire, hell fire, hamburger hill shell fire

Kill a choir like a knife on the front line

Private live riot stage show, first burn, flame throw

Overthrow, take over, name known around the globe

King cobra, poisen slow fang, jungle overgrown

Wu-Tang, Ghostface, Alchemist killing the song

Top billing, feeling famous, chop heads, rock illa

Comic villain on painkillers watching Goodfellas

Dancing in the dungeon all by myself

I say I think I'm going crazy, that's a cry for help

My phone don't ring but get sexy text messages

Gun under my couch got the bitches mind wrestling

Me I'm just chilling with killers at my disposal

I'm fulfilling you will accept my proposal

Put another dime in the jukebox, I love rock and roll

Bulletproof vest, pop, lock and load

Rap zombie I'm controlled by powers beyond me

I go from the drum machines straight to the dvd

Ti the hardrive, to the G5, to the computer screen

To the lab, through the speakers to the pens and the pad

To the science, to the math, to the vocab

Straight to the vocal booth, to the mic, back to that old rap

Through the speakers to the place where your heart and your soul at

Drop out the drums, rough mix, straight to the work draft

Bounce the track to disc format and then burn that

To the cd, we take it to the truck where the systems at

Make sure the bass hit like a thunderclap

Then I double back to the lab fast just like I was running laps

I freeze, back to the digi d to an MP3

Through the internet freeway, straight to the dj

Straight to the radio, constant airplay

I gotta keep true to my plate

So I'm moving that