More Or Less lyrics

Artist  : Shyne 
Song : More Or Less



 Send "More Or Less" Ringtone to your Cell 

 

Artist : Shyne Feat. Foxy Brown
Album :
Godfather Buried Alive
Song : More Or Less
(Formerly known as "When I Die")

Foxy
Brown:

gea

Shyne:

GEA

Walk
with me
(Come on)

Foxy:
Gea
It's
like New York's been soft ever since
My nigga
Shyne been sittin in prison
Yeah

Verse
1
Shyne:

Check it (ugh)
Sick things,
sick rings, this shit is sickenin
Sick chain,
sick aim, 5th bame, 5th frame
Bail
money
Lawyers acting funny when I come
through, hit em wit a bundle
On the
humble
Couple notes
Seen warlords with the
rolls
Shit I want one too what the fuck I'm
gon do?
Forget it if it's dated we got till
I'm dried and rotten
Im rockin sideways,
motherfucker 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
Niggas
talk fly till I walk by and pop something
You
motherfuckers forgot something- I'm not
frontin
This aint rap, music- This aint
that
You fuck around, I'll have you sleepin
where the saints at
Sincerly yours
Shyne
motherfuckin Po
Bitch get your bags, hit the
mothafuckin do'

Chorus
2x
Shyne:

May the angels walk with me
(more or less (Foxy))
Big things big rings
nigga (more or less (Foxy))
Fucking big stars
in big cars (more or less (Foxy))
I can say
I've seen it all and done it all (more or less
(Foxy))

Verse 2
Shyne:

A G is a
G
A ki is a ki
A snitch is a fish with no
fins that can't swim when I dump him in the
river
Chorcoal gray R.
12 cylinders,
bulletproof sentences
Trial day tentative
I
sound like who?
You sound like trash
Get off
my dick and pass my cash
They don't do it cause
I rap about it, I rap about it cause they do
it
My musics the con do it you will take it, I
live it
Bitch nigga I click it and pitch
it
Wipe the prints up off the shit and ditch
it (ugh)
Hip hop aint responsible for violence
in America, America's responsible for violence in
America
Back to the flow
Nose full of
blow
Rolls full of hoes
Leave a nigga
clothes for the hoes
The schools did'nt want
me, so the drug dealers taught me
Simple math,
step on it twice and bring it back
Get four
times what you paid, divide the labor cost
And
still come away with enough to play
And I see
the same shit in niggas younger than me, runnin
the streets
Lookin for somethin to
eat

Chorus 2x
Shyne:

May the
angels walk with me (more or less (Foxy))
Big
things big rings nigga (more or less
(Foxy))
Fucking big stars in big cars (more or
less (Foxy))
I can say I've seen it all and
done it all (more or less (Foxy))

Verse
3
Foxy:

gea
Oh boy better get
down,

Shyne:

Better run for cover
when I spit rounds
Oh you in some shit
now
Get found slit down to the white
meat
Im from Brooklyn vietnam nigga, I like
beef
Livin' these murderous streets double
piped, livin the troubled life
Father was a
jerk, moms had to work, Papi had the work
So I
did what any real nigga would do: got infront the
stove, now I got this shit sold
Fuck you punk
niggas, with your punk cash, let the pump
blast
Put your punk ass in the trunk
fast
What the fuck yall thought?
I bury
niggas in walls, I'm the trail motherfucker
rappin raw
Point blank shootin niggas, point
blank all the way to the bank
Rip your face
off then I take off
The difference between me
and them, you won't be seein them
No more
nigga, secrets of war

Chorus
4x
Shyne:

May the angels walk with me
(more or less (Foxy))
Big things big rings
nigga (more or less (Foxy))
Fucking big stars
in big cars (more or less (Foxy))
I can say
I've seen it all and done it all (more or less
(Foxy))