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lirik lagu sylk-e. fyne - ya style

[intro]
east coast hustlas
to my midwest thugstas
to my west, west coast riders
to my up north playa partners
to my down dirty south little whodies
to my world~wide showtys
to my international playas, international playas

[verse 1: snoop dogg]
mmm, i’m up early in the morning
choppin’ game with sylk~e fyne and bizzy bone
i’m on the phone, tryin’ to get about a zone
my eyes red, head back, khakis sag, blue flag
in a ninety~nine jag
with a forty four mag up in my bag
i’m driftin’, dippin’, slippin’, slidin’
high, high way fly
hoes on the side of me
they act like they wanna ride with me
come on, get in, make it fun
me and y’all, two on one
dippin’ down the boulevard
yeah, i know you like us hard
call me mister gangsta, gangsta
or mister boogie~woogie
b~tches love to give it to me (give it to me)
so baby, give it to me, ’cause i put it down g~style
l.b.c. style
meanwhile, i’m shakin’ fleas, makin’ gs, growin’ trees
maxin’ at the pound with my homies (homies)
i’m sure y’all got to dig this style once y’all know me, homie
show me love, westside love
more heat for the street, i thought you knew we came to fire it up
[chorus]
your style
i like your style’s tenderness
i like your style’s silkiness
i like your style’s, what a mix
your style

[verse 2: sylk e fyne]
hooked up with my n~ggas
now we’s about to dip
they say, life’s a b~tch, don’t even trip
i stay rawed up, ready for whatever
gotta beat a broad up for interfering with my cheddar
wherever, whenever, i’ma go get her
and see, we gon’ clear to to poppin’ them guns
i’ma get right with ya
they type of chick a n~gga love to have by ya side
’cause when the sh~t get thick, it’s like a do or die
so fly, so stylin’, and real peelish
so don’t try to ride with the realest
big dog, sylk~e fyne and gambino
games like the casino
i don’t love ’em, plus they don’t love them hoes
so, put a million dollar check to that
pop your collar and tilt your hat
where the real b~tches at?
boss sir, honey child
i got to give it to my n~ggas and b~tches that got style
[chorus]
your style
i like your style’s tenderness
i like your style’s silkiness
i like your style’s, what a mix
your style

[verse 3: bizzy bone]
won’t let no sucka vibe off me
i don’t need no clique to suck my bone (oh) and bust my (shh…)
it’s just so n~n~n~nasty
through the ouija
little eazy died of a~i~d’s
you better believe it
believe me, i can see it
still sinnin’ and endin’ in adreniline
ain’t you weeded?
but of course baby
wantin’ my mercedes
runaway slaves save me, what about your babies?
krayzie got lost like big wish for the big fish b~tch
i done had my wig split for the b~tch sh~t
a new jack, parlay (come and get it, get it)
here cops come
ooh, with a whop from layzie
got ‘glock shot, shot, shot just like i got him
what? i heard flesh was nuts
livin’ on the bottom but i don’t give a f~ck
local n~ggas can sue me, my people won’t keep they mouth shut
snoopy come hit the blunt and feel my movie
what? what?
sylk e watch out for diamond
little mike mike’s still shinnin’
there’s the clutch, perfect timin’
in the search for guidance
silently riot
and the quiet hoe was still smilin’
[chorus]
your style
i like your style’s tenderness
i like your style’s silkiness
i like your style’s, what a mix
your style

[outro]
ride fo’ my n~gga
even die fo’ my n~gga
deal wit my n~gga
keep it real wit my n~gga
feel my n~gga
i’m stuck wit my n~gga
i’ll buck fo’ my n~gga
so don’t f~ck wit my n~gga

ride fo’ my n~gga
even die fo’ my n~gga
deal wit my n~gga
keep it real wit my n~gga
feel my n~gga
i’m stuck wit my n~gga
i’ll buck fo’ my n~gga
so don’t f~ck wit my n~gga
ride fo my n~gga…

- lirik lagu sylk e fyne

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