Shyne - Edge Lyrics

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Edge Lyrics
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Shyne - Edge lyrics

[Verse 1]

Uh uh, Uh, Uh

Ayo, mac 10s and fake friends

Lawyers little game homicide 25 what the fuck a nigga facin

But I'm still trill, still holdin

Rollin gully until I'm frozen, closed in a box with embalming fluid

Veins pumpin ice

First and 15th keep that caine pumping right

Hard white, cold cash

Hold fast, fold fast, through the city so gas

No ass

Straight head bitch, I'm running from the feds

Fuck comma raps, Sam Giancana

All I got in this world is my fifth dick and nana

Gangsta mannerism lyrical vandalism

Niggaz be burnin up their guns until the fucking hammers hit 'em

Who need help?

Well until then I'ma take that mac off the shelf

and hold these fucking streets hostage

Blowing smoke out my nostrils

Every breath is a step to a untimely death

[Hook 2X]

I wanna know where to go

Need a place in my mind I can rest

Cause this time is running out for my flesh

Dried up, sittin' in a chair fried up

[Verse 2]

You know me; I don't need no introduction in this

Big gun, big dick, half of a mill on the wrist

Sittin in my continental thinkin' about potential connects

I live it all, just pencil the best

Parts of the life of a quintessential hustler

When I pull a slide back

Motherfuckers be hoping they faces don't get left open

You understand?

Shirt soaking, brain smoking left in the ocean floatin'

Shyne Po, dough, stack, y'all Rap niggaz is trash

I don't give a fuck how much records you sold

Tryin' to be me

Keep it real dog, you dyin to be me

You wanna know how it feel, don't you?

To have a murder charge, tote guns at American Music Awards

And live life against odds

Doing 170 screaming "FUCK THE WORLD" (gangsta get outta the car)

[Hook 2X]

[Verse 3]

Where the fuck them niggaz at? We gonna handle this beef

Turn your mic off bitch; see me in the street

Fuck peace 'til I'm restin in the [dried up flesh is finish]?

I don't know how to chill til I'm in the morgue

Dysfunctional, highly uncomfortable paranoid

Without the extra clip (bitch), try me I'll puncture you

Had niggaz waking up with wings in their backs, halos in their head like

"Ayo I'm dead"

Can a knight fucking princess Diana type

Vana White, vane light, pen I write cold, hand of ice

They said too much for the motor mind to comprehend

Walk wit me, pause take a breath (lets go)

Things ain't just the same for gangstas

Secret indictments fucking up the game for gangstas

[?] charges tryin to arraign a gangsta

Through it all I maintain my gangsta

[Hook until fade]