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Correct Lord Have Mercy Lyrics
Lyrics
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Artists: V
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Vic Spencer
►
Correct Lord Have Mercy
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Lyrics:
I'm sick of all the rumors Gun smoke, son choke, the Heimlich Maneuver The nine spit, the Ruger, the prints is wiped And then thrown into the drain 'cause the game played right I'd rather box, but I'll shoot your ass King leader, say, "Do it," and niggas do it fast I rap all the time And when I'm not doin' that, then it's back to the crime The truth, the autobiography of A nigga from Brownsville, black glove on the snub Y'all these boys spliff green Had me lookin' clueless, Hardy Boy mystery Hakuna matata, no plans to shoot ya King of the apes and the papes, Mansa Musa I know the streets down pat, I'm unaware I once sold crack in Delaware, truth Lord have mercy, lord have mercy Lord have a mercy, lord have mercy Lord have mercy, lord have mercy Lord have a mercy, lord have mercy Thou shalt not get fronted work he can't get rid of Black I'll be the holder for your killer Flow, no Brita, culprit, a coldness Raw rap stick to the ribs, good for some porridge Express life, item ready, my tribe ready We ride steady, tryna belly this confetti Sharp as a machete, niggas suffer from bluffin' Fallin' for temptations and turn Ruffin I get it in on sight like Visine No dry scenes, the words you utter is vice dreams Fifth tucked, like a seal liquor, I flea flicker The blicka after the hit up and sell it to a dumb nigga It's a cycle, they scope to see you for a rifle Seems the ones tellin' the lies, you wanna idol It's a thin line with love and gettin' mine So that metal get tow trucked, everybody get fined Lord have mercy, lord have mercy Lord have a mercy, lord have mercy Lord have mercy, lord have mercy Lord have a mercy, lord have mercy I just got through boxin' a panther Cold cut bow, stuff the face of your grandpa, nigga You might as well go and get you a day job Stop rappin', slap you at the movies, I'm not actin' The coldest rapper in Chicago, homie Creep mode, speak flows in the all black Suaconys You niggas not my homies, better call the god upstairs Spit bars at your heart, you fall right there The heaviest, deadliest, trimmed all the fat on the petty I'm Dante Gabriel Rossetti The microphone is a machete Nigga can't break a bank but I can break a levee I'm different like bringin' fried chicken to a fish fry You don't have a bite like a mothafuckin' fly Lord have mercy on their souls Read the rest of my bars in the Dead Sea Scrolls Lord have mercy, lord have mercy Lord have a mercy, lord have mercy Lord have mercy, lord have mercy Lord have a mercy, lord have mercy
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