Rza - We

Song rating according to users : 9.50 of 10

Voted in total : [14]

Song lyrics :

We pop, we brawl, gettin money til the day we fall

Double barrel shotgun (blaow), pop son
I told n***a, just not run
I saw him on 205th in Fordham
This dog was frozen, so my high heat thawed him (Wu!)
I blown ya, you need a blood donor
My b**h ghetto, like Florida and Laronia (girl)
Laundry mat hoes, who want clothes?
I flow checks, one followed by six os (six os)
I got hoes, in codes, in different areas
Four ton whips thats sittin on interiors
The ba** shake in the club like its earthquakin
I cock arm, pa** the bomb, like Troy Aikman (Aikman)
Play the basement like Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson
You miserable, you get kidnapped by Kathy Bason
Thrown to the dungeon, for your spongin
Of Wu k**a Bee, whats your total malfunction?

We pop, we brawl, get money til the day we fall (yeah)
My glock (my glock), my four (my four)
throw shots through your bedroom door (bedroom door)
From the Ps, to the morgue, cop Louie all the way to my drawers (New York)
We pop (pop), we brawl (brawl), get money til the way we fall

Come on, lets cut the crap, money
Ive been gettin this rap money
Crack money, stack money, Im tryin to get that Shaq money
That Mike Tyson, Michael Jordan, Michael Jack money
Five hundred mill and better, dog, yeah, now thats money
Act funny, yall make me laugh (haha)


Frontin like you tough, you softer than a babys a**
These lazy a** labels -- f** you! Pay me cash
My crazy path promoted me into a Mercedes cla**

We pop, we brawl, get money til the day we fall (yeah)
My glock (my glock), my four (my four)
throw shots through your bedroom door (bedroom door)
From the Ps, to the morgue, cop Louie all the way to my drawers (New York)
We pop (pop), we brawl (brawl), get money til the way we fall

Yeah, all yall can see is the back of my jersey
Blowin in the wind, goin back to Jersey
Off to Brooklyn, left you back in Jersey
I was doin a buck 90 like a throwback jersey
Shame on a n***a, take it back to Dirty
Run, game on a n***a, Ill be back in thirty
Seconds, got the worlds greatest record
And that money Imma spend it like your greatest record
This Division, all the ladies respect it
Disrespect it and the eightyll check it
It aint hard to see how yall ignorin the steel
n***as that I clap, lookin for me still
Til they look like they came out of George Foreman grill
Thoughts are stolen on Free, must be on them crills
Plus my, team gon be holdin like forty mill
Thoughts are rollin on E., must be on those pills

We pop, we brawl, get money til the day we fall (yeah)
My glock (my glock), my four (my four)
throw shots through your bedroom door (bedroom door)
From the Ps, to the morgue, cop Louie all the way to my drawers (New York)
We pop (pop), we brawl (brawl), get money til the way we fall

Lyrics added by user : Georgia Davis

Song added date : 29.12.2021

We recommend listening to :