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    Freeway / Lyrics

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    "Don't Cross The Line" Lyrics

    Freeway feat. Faith Evans

    Album:
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    Duration:00:04:06
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    Lyrics

    The name F R double the E
    The gat hack are end where the cops'll clip
    Back, flip, hands spring semi your V
    You callin' all an' run to the cops

    Don't make me wet, y'all
    With what's under the T-shirt
    The heat hurt, blew off ya front porch, your backyard
    Ya'll niggaz like dicks, pause
    Thick jaws, act hard, so they keep squirtin'

    I move work often
    Like when New York couldn't beat Boston
    Controllin' the nets, I float on ya block
    Hop out, post up, move rocks often
    Shut the shot down, pass it to Chris

    If your boss got twelve on the neck, ten in the arm
    An' my gat at the end of my arms
    Hittin' the clip prick
    Flippin' ya vet, causin' you harm, nigga
    Ya'll need a place of respect, we runnin' shit

    The name, F R double the E, tell 'em
    Don't really wanna cross the line
    An' I don't wanna have to tell ya twice
    An' Trick, R O C bring trouble your way

    W A to the Y, tell 'em
    Means that don't show love
    Freeway gets no love
    Trick, R O C bring trouble this parts

    F R E, bubble the ride an' in all
    Came from takin' the trip, stuffin' the ride, yea
    I'ma ride it on every of your ride
    Caught in every broad or market
    Park it, hop out in deer crew

    The heat is on perfect, tuckin' the linin'
    I'm fine an' trynna get some tickets for slidin'
    Freeway's in full effect
    An' all these bitches want some millions
    Just to hear my rhyme

    An' I don't gotta boss 'em to give nectar
    The boy get check-ups, I get neck, when I don't ask
    When mami's with the ax, make my baby momma ask
    Look, that's the crime

    An' I don't wanna force y'all to give checks, uh
    Without tax, Freeway shoot ya from ya head to ya toe
    From ya toes to ya neck
    That's what the boy brought, extra large

    The name, F R double the E, tell 'em
    Don't really wanna cross the line
    An' I don't wanna have to tell ya twice
    An' Trick, R O C bring trouble your way

    W A to the Y, tell 'em
    Means that don't show love
    Freeway gets no love
    Trick, R O C bring trouble this parts

    Freeway bring trouble to soloists
    The sawed off split, get the fuck outta dodge
    Know this, I came from nothin'
    So ain't nothin' for my gauge to duck
    You punks, get outta line

    An' I cock back, bloody ya tee
    Pull ya top back, drive through at McDonald's
    In front of Ronald, put ya brains on ya Big Mac
    Make sure the bitch don't leave

    I got a gat an' a clip in each sleeve
    With boxers, so my dick can breathe
    Breeze through in the '89
    Dealt with my boys, with my whistle on freeze
    That's how you know I got the block on smash

    Act up, I put your stripper on freeze
    Me an' Sieg', like Snoop an' Daz
    Because tricks that fuck, couldn't give me the ass
    An' they roll up, light up, pass me the trees, come on

    The name, F R double the E, tell 'em
    Don't really wanna cross the line
    An' I don't wanna have to tell ya twice
    An' Trick, R O C bring trouble your way

    W A to the Y, tell 'em
    Means that don't show love
    Freeway gets no love
    Trick, R O C bring trouble this parts

    It's Freeway and done away and we doin' it [Incomprehensible]
    Holla, yeah, it's the rep

    F R double the E, tell 'em
    Cross the line, flip ya V?
    Ya lost you mind? Don't fuck with Free
    Trick, R O C bring trouble your way, holla
    This song was submitted on April 18th, 2011 and last modified on November 28th, 2016.
    Copyright with Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group.
    Written by Faith Evans, V Barrett, B Eli, Leslie Pridgen, Justin Gregory Smith.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

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