Shyne More or Less Lyrics

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(Walk with me)
(Come on)

It's like new york's being soft
Ever since my ***** shyne's been sitting in prison, yeah

(Check it)
**** things, **** rings, this **** is sickning
**** chain, **** aim, 5th bame, 5th frame bare money
Lawyers acting funny when I come throught hit em with the bundle on the humble
Couple notes

'Seen warlords with the rolls'
**** I want one 2. what the **** I'm going do
Forget it if its ?dated?? we got till I'm droping
I'm rocking sideways, ************ crime pays

I need it , I get it, I got it, I chop it, I double the profit
And bubble the pockets. I'm living to die.
*****s talk fly till I walk by
And pop something. you ************s forgot something I'm not fronting.

This ain't rap. music.
This ain't that.
You **** around and ill have you sleeping with a safe sac?
Sincerely yours

Shyne **********ing poe
***** get your bags, hit the **********ing door

[Chorus: x 2]
May the angels walk with me (more or less)
Big things big rings ***** (more or less)
****ing big stars and big cars (more or less)
I can see iv seen it all and done it all (more or less)

G is a g
A key is a key
A snitch is a fish with no fins that can't swim when I dump him in the river
Chor-coal gray R.

12 cylinders bulletproof sentance
'Trial day sentances'
I sound like who
You sound like trash

Get off my **** and pass my cash.
They all do it cause I rap about it, I rap about it casue they do it
My musics the con do it ?you will take it or live it ?.. ***** ***** I quick it then pitch it
Wipe the prints up of this ****. and ditch it

(Uh) hip hop ain't responsible for violence in America
America is responsible for violence in America
Back to the flow
Nose full of blow

Rolls full of hoes
Leave a ***** cloths for the hoes
The schools did'nt want me . so the drug dealers taught me, simple math, step on it twice then
Bring it back

The full times wouldent pay. divide the labour costs
And still come away with enough to play
I see the same ****, *****z younger then me running the streets, looking for something to eat

[Chorus: x 2]

Oh boy you better get down, (foxy)
You better run for cover when I spit rounds
Oh you want some **** now , get found slit down to the white meat.
I'm from Brooklyn Vietnam *****, I like beef

Livin' the murderer streets double pipe. living the trouble life.
Father was a jerk, moms had to work, papi had the dirt,
And did what any real ***** would do: got infront the stove, now I got this **** sold
**** you punks *****. with you're punk cash. with the punk blast put your punk *** in the trunk fast

What the **** why'all thought I bury *****s in walls I'm the trail ************ rapping raw
Punk blame shooting niggsz point blank all the way to the bank rip your face off then I take off.
The difference between me an them. you won't be seem them. no more ***** . secrets of war

[Chorus: Repeat until end]

May the angels walk with me (more or less)
Big things big rings ***** (more or less)
****ing big stars and big cars (more or less)
I can see I've seen it all and done it all (more or less)

Written by: Jamal Barrow, Janie Bradford, Freddie Gorman, Brian Miller, Kanye West, Kanye Omari West
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group

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