Songtext Heaven's arms von The Game

Original

Bewerten sie:

Abstimmung von benutzern: 0.0/10 - Stimmen insgesamt: 0

Ändern video(1 von 3)

Jesus piece

2012

Heaven's arms

[Intro]

[Hook]
Part the Red Sea, and red Louis Vuittons, who the Don?
walk inside the club with all this Gucci on, you been warned.
packin heat like two Lebrons and my crew is strong as Cali Kush and keep ya
"Higher than Heavens arms"

[Verse 1:Game]
Gucci in my closet, part in my head
pardon my French, but I'm on my Nas shit,
off with your head, off with your bitch
she offer my head, I offer the dick
slip my black card a reception, now we off in the Ritz
I'm rollin this kush she coughin and shit
freak bitch named Jada, love the locks
I gota talk and a kiss.
I got my hands behind me head, and she almost splits
dick must be good, cause now she in Boston with bricks
got a text on my iphone she caught one with my shit
offer a ten and she took it cause she far from a snitch
hold up my man and her daddy down got a sister in Georgetown
paying that tuition so she aint got to be strippin
its money, so I aint trippin
This bullshit get printed, the banks get scoped out
the black cars get rented, my Gucci suit taylored
my fade get tappered, you get sent to you make of fuckin round with my paper

[Hook]

[Verse 2: Game]
Hard bottom ferragamos IQ too much for mediocre convos
I know a fair con note, 3-story condo
Ipod shuffle in between Common, Jay Electronica, & Bono
our motto the last words of Paul Costelano
Nothin but illest paper and bitches for niggas I know
smokin cheeba, feeding divas McDonalds all the way in Milano
Ashin out cohibas, fuckin in that blue venador
the nose like Gonzo let a bitch get a breather
and then she's back hittin high notes
throwin Louis luggage at dealerships fuck a car note
15's and everything beatin like Harpo
rollin purple like harpo, bitches by the car load
they wanna see prints, I'm pullin strings like Carlos
Santana now we at Magic's, Atlanta
wippin Ciroc off my Loubi's with my Gucci bandana

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Game]
Kanye with Kim now, Im happy for that nigga
disrespect him or his wifey I slap you for that nigga
grew up listening to Pac now, Im rappin for that nigga
my brother been dead for 20 years, I'm trappin for that nigga
God flow, like Push and them, rose Phantom I'm pushing them
splitting Louisville Sluggers open put kush in them
aint forgot about the twin towers, I blame Bush for them
Obama can't speak on it cause the government shushin him
thats my nigga though, still stickin figures
so one day I be top 5, I can politic with Jigga though
I was just trying to blue print myself behind jigga though
and all them old dishes yo, bullshit Thibodeau
he be where the summer be, I be with a winter coat
tomahawk the Bugatti, Florida State Seminole.
I'm out here trying to win penant though
never thought I be legendary , but fuck it I'm in it so...

[Hook]

Danke, weil sie diesen text korrigieren

künstler*

songtitel*

email*

abonniere den newsletter

songtext*

[Intro]

[Hook]
Part the Red Sea, and red Louis Vuittons, who the Don?
walk inside the club with all this Gucci on, you been warned.
packin heat like two Lebrons and my crew is strong as Cali Kush and keep ya
"Higher than Heavens arms"

[Verse 1:Game]
Gucci in my closet, part in my head
pardon my French, but I'm on my Nas shit,
off with your head, off with your bitch
she offer my head, I offer the dick
slip my black card a reception, now we off in the Ritz
I'm rollin this kush she coughin and shit
freak bitch named Jada, love the locks
I gota talk and a kiss.
I got my hands behind me head, and she almost splits
dick must be good, cause now she in Boston with bricks
got a text on my iphone she caught one with my shit
offer a ten and she took it cause she far from a snitch
hold up my man and her daddy down got a sister in Georgetown
paying that tuition so she aint got to be strippin
its money, so I aint trippin
This bullshit get printed, the banks get scoped out
the black cars get rented, my Gucci suit taylored
my fade get tappered, you get sent to you make of fuckin round with my paper

[Hook]

[Verse 2: Game]
Hard bottom ferragamos IQ too much for mediocre convos
I know a fair con note, 3-story condo
Ipod shuffle in between Common, Jay Electronica, & Bono
our motto the last words of Paul Costelano
Nothin but illest paper and bitches for niggas I know
smokin cheeba, feeding divas McDonalds all the way in Milano
Ashin out cohibas, fuckin in that blue venador
the nose like Gonzo let a bitch get a breather
and then she's back hittin high notes
throwin Louis luggage at dealerships fuck a car note
15's and everything beatin like Harpo
rollin purple like harpo, bitches by the car load
they wanna see prints, I'm pullin strings like Carlos
Santana now we at Magic's, Atlanta
wippin Ciroc off my Loubi's with my Gucci bandana

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Game]
Kanye with Kim now, Im happy for that nigga
disrespect him or his wifey I slap you for that nigga
grew up listening to Pac now, Im rappin for that nigga
my brother been dead for 20 years, I'm trappin for that nigga
God flow, like Push and them, rose Phantom I'm pushing them
splitting Louisville Sluggers open put kush in them
aint forgot about the twin towers, I blame Bush for them
Obama can't speak on it cause the government shushin him
thats my nigga though, still stickin figures
so one day I be top 5, I can politic with Jigga though
I was just trying to blue print myself behind jigga though
and all them old dishes yo, bullshit Thibodeau
he be where the summer be, I be with a winter coat
tomahawk the Bugatti, Florida State Seminole.
I'm out here trying to win penant though
never thought I be legendary , but fuck it I'm in it so...

[Hook]