RAY LUV


Bubble Lyrics

[Intro: Ray Luv]
Yiddo, Yiddo, ha ha ha ha, this yo' nigga Young Ray Luv
Back in yo' motherf*cking face, you know?
Ha ha ha ha, the Lynk Crew, no more trouble, just trying to bubble
And this goes out to my son - Baby IE, wassup boy?

I was a hustlin-ass nigga straight lovin' the game
Always meant to be a playa put the Luv in my name
Who put the hustle in this youngster? I guess my daddy's to blame
Cause if it made skrilla, there wasn't no shame in his game
Another young playa, caught up in the fortune and fame
Nigga when I'm gone, will they still remember my name?
Straight soldier, stayed at this here 'till it's over
Old folks laughing, telling my daddy that I'm never sober
Why don't you understand I'm just trying to feed my baby?
I'm going crazy, none of y'all fools can fade me
You trying to save me? Sometimes I feel the love is gone
There I go, out the door to get my hustle on
Dreams of platinum, rap after rap I'm writing back to back
While I hustle stack for stack
I'm caught in the cross, the game twist me into trouble
Forever hustle, I'mma struggle 'till I bubble

Gotta make my money double
Struggle out of trouble, all good
I'mma hustle till I bubble
Gotta make my money triple
Hennessy not ripple
(Big Eddie Spaghetti you gone pop like a pimple)

BG turned OG, gone off that oldie
Went from Zenith's and Vogue's to Lexus I's and gold D's
In love with the game, will I fold G's?
Ain't no tears just beer poured for my homies
A ghetto star, every hood in church know me
Haters want me but trick them suckers long as the set got love for me
I'm Lynked up to the fullest
So you better think nine times before you come at me with some bullshit
The Feds is crackin' down like bullwhips
And niggas' gunnin' for me so when I smoke I keep a full clip
I just wanna get richer
So when you look at success I'm the nigga you seeing in the picture
The B-I-G E-Double-D-I-E Spaghetti
You know me already, nigga with the long fetti
Gangbangin' but never see me with no rag
No time to lag, stuffin' hundreds into Hefty bags
The local motors wanna' battle
I'm gone holler "trump", cause inflation
Move the organization to Seattle
Call my up-North connection
He say, "I got it sewed up in Seattle
Even judges in the next election"
I have a ticket to a Samsonite
Ready to get it on, fool I'm gone on the next flight
A young nigga out to rumble
Got to get my money on, nigga watch my bubble

Gotta make my money double
Struggle out of trouble, all good
I'mma hustle till I bubble
Gotta make my money triple
Hennessy not ripple
(Big Eddie Spaghetti you gone pop like a pimple)
[Young Dre:]
My chances gettin' slim in the wind as I'm hustlin'
Straight automatic phone call sidin' in traffic so I'm dumpin'
Cause' all I really wanted was a piece of the ree-zor
I bust so heavy in this geed-ame, I can't ever skeezers out on the grind
Heard 'em motivated poppilin' bubblin' major
Just 19 years old I'm freezing cold fiending for paper
You ain't know I'm a young BG from the 'Tay soakin' game from my older cousin
Convinced to grind 'till I'm ballin, you thought I wasn't
Trying to keep my focus with the daily bomb, better get the Loc'ses
For the chronic got more straight keeps my calm
Flick of the wrist, we get the dopest Coca-Cola
So do the gypsy-twister hocus-pocus A1-Yola
Tear in to any fool that's trying to stop my hustle
It'll be a 211-187 Young Dre is destined to bubble

Gotta make my money double
Struggle out of trouble, all good
I'mma hustle till I bubble
Gotta make my money triple
Hennessy not ripple
(Big Eddie Spaghetti you gone pop like a pimple)

[Ray Luv:]
So much fetti I'm feeling hunted
Every epsiode I be lookin' for my face on the Most Wanted
Feel like my life was written by Donald Gould
A kingpin on the run, nigga, like Jesse Owens
Never knowin' which one of these suckers calling themselves a menace
Gonna be pumped off that spinach wanna put a hot-one in a
Young nigga, my grandmomma call me sinner
Look, granny, I just want to make you proud of me and be a winner
Get out of this shit before I'm fade out, doin' bad
Go legit before I'm layed out, on the slab
Who say we can't be hard, and still smart?
Who say I gotta go out to the pen or the county morgue?
Gotta find a way out, my little homies they be rappin'
Me and my mail, let's see what we can make happen
Get in it to win it and pop like Russel Simmons before I finish
A big baller, going out to the book of Guiness
But these playa-haters known to be snitches and traitors
Fool you can't fade us, f*ckin' with Big Eddie yes the greatest
Little homies keep writing I'm gonna put five grand on a lawyer
Big Eddie Records got a business license
Rumor has it that my young niggas out there jackin'
Oh, you ain't know? I signed them soldiers now we goin' platinum
I found my route up out the trouble
Out to get my money on, nigga watch my bubble

Gotta make my money double
Struggle out of trouble, all good
I'mma hustle till I bubble
Gotta make my money triple
Hennessy not ripple
(Big Eddie Spaghetti you gone pop like a pimple)

[Outro:]
For the 1-99-5, straight trying to bubble

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these lyrics are submitted by kaan
Songwriter(s): andre terry, ray tyson, khayree shaheed
Record Label(s): 1995 Atlantic Records Marketed by Rhino Entertainment Company, a Warner Music Group Company
Official lyrics by

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