Back to Top

Full Magazine Video (MV)




Performed By: Ransom
Language: English
Length: 3:18
Written by: David Brooks




Ransom - Full Magazine Lyrics
Official




Now who the f*ck is this, thinking that they in the mix
Jewel change more colors then the Milk in a bowl of trix
But this one ain't for kids got Killaz on the grid
And we know where granny live
Watch ya lid might get it twisted off
Blunt after blunt and we hit the liquor hard
I ain't tripping I was born to flip
While these snake mufukaz hanging on like ornaments
On to get, everything I want, never gotta front, bud stronger than a skunk
Big wlliy thas why niggaz wanna get me
Keep the Glock on my waist Everytime I'm in the city
Gotta keep my head moving on a swivel
Full magazine in case you want he latest issue
Have yo mama makin waste of tissue
Cement block ya feet so can't nobody save or get you
At the bottom of the ocean ain't no floating
Top is where we going jacket cuz I get the coldest
If you didn't know then now you know it
Bounce on the bitch soon as she bring up some old shit
Keep it going reaping what I'm sowing
Peep it when I'm flowing nothing you can do to hold him
Like a river headed to the ocean
Betta Watch who you approaching
My niggaz move wit no emotion
Take a sip 30 in my favorite clip
Point Blank a nigga to make sure we don't scrape the kids
And we riding out in Beamers and Benz's
Questions that I never got to ask like where the bitches
Hit ya baby mama aint no favoritism
While these Fake niggas biting on my style, plagiarism
Gotta Get it while you can for its gone
Hold down the Throne, And Make the Hood a happy home
Pour a shot for ma niggaz in the system
Never been a victim Rottweilers trained to get them
And I don't make excuses why I do this Either Come back for blood or take the loss and keep it moving
In the belly of the Beast from the jump
Scrapped coming up cuz Mama didn't raise a punk
And my niggas can attest wit the tech if haters wanna test get the Ruger to ya neck
Hundred miles an hour in the vette Thousands on a bet
No needed muscles when I flex
Pull the money out and get her wet
Take her on the jet
Anything I want I write the check
You watching as my cake get thicker
Smile in my face while plotting on a way to get em
Bet you Ransom won't slip
I got the hollow points for the AR loaded in the clip
And they hundred round drummers
For niggaz trying to come up
Body bag your ass fore the Sun up
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.


We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.


English

Now who the f*ck is this, thinking that they in the mix
Jewel change more colors then the Milk in a bowl of trix
But this one ain't for kids got Killaz on the grid
And we know where granny live
Watch ya lid might get it twisted off
Blunt after blunt and we hit the liquor hard
I ain't tripping I was born to flip
While these snake mufukaz hanging on like ornaments
On to get, everything I want, never gotta front, bud stronger than a skunk
Big wlliy thas why niggaz wanna get me
Keep the Glock on my waist Everytime I'm in the city
Gotta keep my head moving on a swivel
Full magazine in case you want he latest issue
Have yo mama makin waste of tissue
Cement block ya feet so can't nobody save or get you
At the bottom of the ocean ain't no floating
Top is where we going jacket cuz I get the coldest
If you didn't know then now you know it
Bounce on the bitch soon as she bring up some old shit
Keep it going reaping what I'm sowing
Peep it when I'm flowing nothing you can do to hold him
Like a river headed to the ocean
Betta Watch who you approaching
My niggaz move wit no emotion
Take a sip 30 in my favorite clip
Point Blank a nigga to make sure we don't scrape the kids
And we riding out in Beamers and Benz's
Questions that I never got to ask like where the bitches
Hit ya baby mama aint no favoritism
While these Fake niggas biting on my style, plagiarism
Gotta Get it while you can for its gone
Hold down the Throne, And Make the Hood a happy home
Pour a shot for ma niggaz in the system
Never been a victim Rottweilers trained to get them
And I don't make excuses why I do this Either Come back for blood or take the loss and keep it moving
In the belly of the Beast from the jump
Scrapped coming up cuz Mama didn't raise a punk
And my niggas can attest wit the tech if haters wanna test get the Ruger to ya neck
Hundred miles an hour in the vette Thousands on a bet
No needed muscles when I flex
Pull the money out and get her wet
Take her on the jet
Anything I want I write the check
You watching as my cake get thicker
Smile in my face while plotting on a way to get em
Bet you Ransom won't slip
I got the hollow points for the AR loaded in the clip
And they hundred round drummers
For niggaz trying to come up
Body bag your ass fore the Sun up
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: David Brooks
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

Back to: Ransom

Tags:
No tags yet