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Viewing Lyrics for Keep Your Hands High:
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| | Artist: | Tracey Lee |
| | Album: | Many Facez | | Track: | Keep Your Hands High | | | | Date Added: | 18/10/2007 | | Views: | 32 | | | | Lyrics: | featuring Notorious B.I.G.
(Notorious B.I.G.)
Fuck that I preach it my
nine reaches
The prestigious cats who speak this Willie shit
Flood in pieces my
hand releases snatches
Smackin cabbage half ass rappers shouldn't have it
So I grab
it never run the out come is usually
a beat down brutally fuck who you be or where you
from
West or East coast squeeze toast leave most
in the blood they layin in, ask
Tray and them
(Tracey Lee)
Oh shit, I suppose its time to go snitch
Flip a line and get the show lit
You clown niggaz hold it
Down your flow lax, just
so you know that
We could battle for days like old cats
Black, you dealing with a
throw back
Winnin like straight jacks, with a wide range
of rhyme teams, my lyrics
they bang like migraines
Nigga my name, Tray the terrible
Philadelph, wild child
incredible
too sick for medical attention, people listen
It's verbal ascension, like
Maxwell many dimensions
Flood over tracks, well, mics in critical condition
Killin
ya Maxell, unveil lyrical skills unknown
for my people with illegal cell phones
A
real MC let's bring it back home
Live from the two-one-five, that lost a back bone
in charge, and heavily on like break fog
You for saw it, nigga stay down
Biggie make
them hit the floor face down
(Notorious B.I.G.)
What, what, what, the rings
and things you speak about
bring em out, it's hard to yell with my bat round
in your
mouth, its more than I expected
I thought them jewels was rented, but they wasn't
So
run it, cousin, I could chill the heat does it
Ran up in your shell about a dozen, you never
seen
bank like Frank White, ya hand clutchin
ya chest plate contemplates, bout to
die nigga wait
Keep ya hands high
Chorus: repeat 2X
You
don't wanna die, keep your hands high
Ain't no right or wrong in this game called survive
So you know it's Tray and B-I, G schemin on your cream
Why try, keep ya hands high
(Tracey Lee)
Hey yo it's show time, so I'ma blow nines into your spine
So what's yours is mine, you know what this is
Bag the Benjamins with all ya riches
How quickly, the milli turn Willies to bitches
Controllin your fate, a hole in your
plate
Fuck the show dates, I want the whole state
with squads harassin, all of y'all
niggaz who flashin
We doing this the Tray Lee way, delay
Then nigga we spray, aint
no ignoring us
Me and Notorious
(Notorious B.I.G.)
I got a new mouth
to feed, I'm due south with keys
Y'all pick seeds out y'all weed, I watch cowards bleed
Motherfucker please, it's my block with my rocks
Fuck the hip-hop, them one-two's and
it don't stop
Me and my nigga Lance, took him and Cease in vans
Bought ten bricks,
four pounds of weed plants
from Branson, now we lamp in, twelve room mansions
Bitches get naked off Get Money, Playas Anthem
Don't forget One More Chance and, my other
hits
Other shit niggaz spit be counterfeit
Robbing come naturally, in and out like
fuckin rapidly
Pass the gat to me
Make his chest rest where his back should be
Fuckin blasphemy, blast me, your family rest in coffins
Often, Franquiza, far from
soft or fragile, uh
Play hard like Reggie Miller, rapper slash dope dealer
slash
guerilla, slash illest turn iller
(Tracey Lee)
So nigga keep ya hands high
Run all your so called possessions, links with baguettes in
Keys to your Lex, for us
to make your shorties dressed in
A full jack maneuver, dont no body move, just the moolah
It's RNF and Junior M.A.F., runnin through ya like Kahlua
If rum sung then you fly,
niggaz with the 45
but True Lies, but you brought out the real nigga in me
Now I'ma
cock the semi, watch you strip like Demi
Chorus
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More Tracey Lee Lyrics:
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| 1. | Clue Who Shot LR view | | 2. | The Theme The After Party remix view | | 3. | The Professionals view | | 4. | Keep Your Hands High view |
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