Issue No 112 No Suckaz Allowed Lyrics


No Suckaz Allowed by Issue No. 112

Man I seen it, done it, lost it, want it
Hit rock bottom but I hit the ground runnin'
I'm gunnin for the top my adrenaline pumpin'
I'm the same from the hunger paints and the bitter my stomach
Coming back with a purpose, caskets for worthless,
Catch to talk dress and cross passes curtains
Your music to the days, you like the blaze for your personal
I ain't buying the bullshit, man I hate commercials,
Plus you're sweet, now you know 'cause your fans desert you
I'm the truth, I'm the proof in fact they hurt you
With them racks to racks I'm whip em swag the purple,
Rapping and stacking moving grass in a circle
With bags within my eyes, I ain't slipped in days
Got the streets between .. and then swept away
Couple paints and then burble, and blunts burning away
I'm busy flipping that paper like I've been turning the pain

Ain't no suckaz allowed with us
Ain't no suckaz allowed with us

I'm headlining, redlining, dead lining, blinding
Shining, shining, autograph signing,
For those that know, 8 tight further we not make shit grow.
I'm that rock shit fans, I like the grateful dead
You drunk after the show and get rageful head
Keep the stage burn, camera after all that's turned
And you .. they can sacrifice
And even touch Jesus, he must betray trice,
If the problem solve em, trust em revolve em,
It's an obstance who ever cop no truth
If I'm close in my sweat .. and f*ck I lose,
? first ram acing about me, it's first ram
French ice tag and the weed back,
Black out, black out, everybody on the floor,
On the sheet on the shore, daddy came war
The bang, save ass frank in the crowd and
Daddy ruga ain't no Ai suckaz allowed with us
And if the girl feel good in my ? the bus
And move break up, blowing take a passports, damn
Bitch you in the half through that M, f*ck em on the cam
This the game time, yeah that the same time I run
That you lose in the battle is born
I'm everything good end, but

Ain't no suckaz allowed with us
Ain't no suckaz allowed with us

It's the forty out .. the proof ?
the money of the fillie blunts ?smokie and staying?
It's worse to be on my crib let's get my money up
Ain't the stuff but f*ck em and get tummy top
The raise is edge to your head get your thunders truck
Don't be the smuck for under a hundred bucks,
You're .. the sound of something cops,
An insatiable sensation for lunting guns
Your f*cking nuts, I didn't warned you, I don't f*ck em up
You ain't listen now your mouth getting uncle f*ck
What the f*ck is up? Gas flipping the itchin' for ass kissing
So pock a bock, .. your lockers up,
Son running from master do be hitting but front of a trunk and bust
Dirty hand so I ain't making up enough,
So ducking ground back it down and f*ck it jump

Ain't no suckaz allowed with us
Ain't no suckaz allowed with us
Ain't no suckaz allowed with us

Recently Searched Lyrics

Recently Viewed Lyrics