niggaz be fakin like they have shit Like they doin this or that But nigga you know here go the real Chorus: master p (repeat 2x) The ice on my wrist
Vertaling: Magic. Ys op my pols.
Vertaling: Master P. Ys op my pols (Remix) (feat. Magic.
niggaz be fakin like they have shit like they doin this or that but nigga you know here go the real [Chorus x2: Master P] The ice on my wrist shine
my sport I'd rather lamp in my crib and flip the Robb report And set my v-dozen on the streets Cause when I'm twisting my dubs Bump my beats Can't nobody
need some consummation When the sun go down it's the magic hour, the magic hour And outta all the colors that are still up the skies You got green on
Give me a kiss I'm a magic princess Wonder Woman shoot shit out my wrist Take a second I grab bad thought and wreck it check out my magic record This
two seconds fromt wistin ya'll shit over nuttin All a sudden ice grills kid you did a baby bid In a minute almost hung yourself slit ya wrists To the
life Gotta get with me to live, the good life Switching lanes in the six, now that's the good life Ice on your wrist, if that's what you like House on
the green apple beema ya boy so hot the club might burn fresh tennis suit walkin' with 'Leena like brass knuckles on my fist aint it mane like sun shinin' on my wrist
The ice on my wrist shine like a light I can brighten up your day even at night The ice on my wrist shine like a light The ice on my wrist shine like
chicks shit You see the chrome out, been shining on my new 6 My pinky ring, my neck and my ears and my wrist lick I like the ice, I'm pretty nice on
ice on my wrist shine like a light I can brighten up your day even at night The ice on my wrist shine like a light The ice on my wrist shine like a light
tired of holding back, I wanna shine in my cadillac I'm here representing a soldier named Slim See the tank on this neck, see the ice on this wrist Picture
We roll on 'em roll, roll on 'em roll We roll on 'em roll, roll on 'em roll We roll on 'em roll, roll on 'em roll We roll on 'em roll, roll on 'em roll
and that ain't my sport I'd rather lamp in my crib and flip the Robb report And set my v-dozen on the streets Bump my beats Cause when I'm twisting my
Boy] [Rick Ross:] My bitch the baddest it may be my status May be my ashton it may be black magic Maybe I'm destined maybe it's blessings Maybe my cubans
prove, you lose matter of time My swagger (dies of news?) you fools made at my shine Hoppin down the avenues, new jewels back on the grind Run up on
