Screwed Up Click Lyrics - Breathe lyrics

Breathe lyrics (Lyrics)

Song Details:
Album:Screwed Up Click Lyrics
Breathe lyrics Free Lyrics Provided By xee-lyrics.blogspot.com

[talking]
Take Over, the album coming this summer baby
2005 get ready for it baby, they said it wouldnt ever happen
Its going down right now, young gun Po-Yo, Lil O
Mike D, 3-2, breathe-breathe-breathe (just blaze)

[H.A.W.K.]
I breathe with ease, just like I throw them Bs
Puff on trees, like Fat Rat I chase the cheese
Im in the matrix, like Keanu Reeves
Equipped with thieves, and Gs with college degrees
Please believe, our franchise better than Steves
We push Vs, with tops down feeling the breeze
Your main squeeze, is on these N-U-Ts
On her knees, and shes aiming to please
Cause Im riding in a Coupe, the color of mustard
Inside custard, one deep aint no room for busters
Inhale exhale, and spit flawless raps
And Im gon give these boys hell, till my lungs collapse
And if you ashmatic, dont start no static
I be hanging erratic, the situation could get tragic
So take heed, or motherfuckers bound to bleed
With you r homeboy yelling, my nigga please

[talking]
Yall niggaz better breathe, yall niggaz better breathe
Yall niggaz better breathe, Say Den check game my nigga

[Mike D]
Your boy right back home, yall been missing the real
Corleon gon give it to ya, get ya crunk like a X pill
This for the real, dont let them fakes sing along
Its the Boss Don-Dadda, Michael Corleone
Pimp out this, not a simp out this
Get my gangsta strut on, when I limp like this
[From: xee-lyrics.blogspot.com ]
Im certified, mafia strings laced up
Keep a bad game face down, while I wakes up
Yall cats face up, Im back in the do
Harder than ever, cause hard times make a real nigga grow
I done seen in triple Xs, making hope niggaz fold
The fake gon be fake, and the real gon roll on
I dont know no other way, for this Hogg named Corleone
I aint had a damn thang, probably all my life
Shit I struggled, but thats my life
Yeah you better check it nigga , thats my life

[talking]
Corleone, CMB-S.U.C. (hold up)
(you know, you-you-you know, what)

[Grace]
Game runner after cash, execute and put it down
Rhyme ripper syrup sipper, Screwed Up in H-Town
You know my name and my game, how I do what it do
Legendary Dub maker, got the game from Screw
Pimp pens and bust guns, transact with coupons
Dues paid and stripes earned, my nigga the blue Don
Get it right go all night, Im a true block bleeder
Dat Boy Grace from the Fare, certified with the heater
Pick a point you phony buster, bad decision paper stacking
Keep it cracking steady macking, transacting and bad acing
Hoover Groover thatll do ya, make the Ruger run through ya
Catch a rat in my cheese, watch them hollows pursue ya
I got it all on my mind, paid the cost to shine
S.U.C. day one nigga, its a constant grind
I hit the booth and breathe, kill a track with ease
L.O.S., Den and Grace true Southwest Gs