| Disc 1 | ||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1. |
| - | 
|
|||
|
.
|
||||||
| 2. |
| - | 
|
|||
| 3. |
| - |
|
|||
|
(Intro)
Yeah nigga Game from the mind of some real motherfuckin' thugs (thugs) Fetty Chico up in this biAAtch (biaatch) Bloow !! (blooow) (Chorus) 2x You wouldn't believe all the shit I see (just a thug yes I'm only a thug) That's why I spit this thug poetry (walks like a thug talks like a thug) Clown like a thug put it down like a thug (Spice 1) Release me to the belly of the beast The jungle made of concrete Real niggas die in they sleep The strong prey on the weak We gets down from dusk til dawn Like quentin tarantino shakin' niggas up In the neck like (Joe) Pesci in "Casino" Fetty chico bailin' in buckets with bullet holes Caught up in drug wars Use current from cargos Too much drama in my past time (past time) I swore when I got outta jail it was my last time (last time) Fuck One-Time (hahahaha) Pants saggin' twisted up with the braids Leave the house 3 in the mornin 'fore the Drug Unit raid Get out the cemetery visit my soldiers up in the grave Tell 'em I miss the times when we used to get paid Though I'm thugging without ya Nigga I ain't forgot about ya Daily weapin' on some mobstyle shit ?? And when survival is goin' around Called the "thug disease" Gettin' niggas like rats trapped in murder for cheese It's thug poetry (chorus) 2x I'm just a thug (thug) yes I'm only a thug (thug) Walks like a thug (thug) talks like a thug (thug) You wouldn't believe all the drama I see That's why I spit the Thug poetry (spit the thug poetry) (Saafir) Ay, wassup This is Saafir, mayn, check this out Imma tell you like this here, mayn These Thug niggas, mayn Look, let me lace you with like Thug Poetry But now, I'm a rider though So Imma keep it mackish just lead me to it Cause it's easy to do it but it gotta be fluent Ohh shit this is bangin Hangin' niggas with the microphone cord That's my job without a rope (NO) Without a motherfuckin' joke (don't laugh) Nigga I'm clean as fuck without soap Keep my poetry like 'get out hoe' (get out hoe) Bustin' like a .44, Mr. motherfuckin' No-No from that Hobo Junction is the westbound campaign When I'm away from the camp, mayn Rollin' solo but stay loaded with slugs Cause ain't no love hoe don't wear no diamond-studded glove That superstar shit we'll get your ass put underground Super-far trick (quick) Like you fake ass niggas on some superhard shit But never murdered I'm a player that get braided up from the pussy And never squirted (never) That's game I hope you heard it Cause I'm on a mad point nigga Spice *WEEZY* serve it with some Thug poetry (Chorus) 2x I'm just a thug (thug) yes I'm only a thug (thug) Walks like a thug (thug) talks like a thug (thug) You wouldn't believe all the drama I see That's why I spit the Thug poetry (spit the Thug poetry) (Spice 1) I smash on niggas pullin' triggers We leave 'em stressed Never leavin' home without the medal plate in my vest This is westside livin' (livin') Hangin' out with the unforgiven Different murders under they belt but ain't nobody here trippin' We're all felons in this motherfucker Dodgin' 3 strikes (strikes) Niggas smokin' on that chronic weed leaf northern lights Reminisce of the dead (dead) Pourin' out a little liquor (liquor) Got me drunk and passed out With my fingers still on the trigger (trigger) Havin' nightmares of killers tryin' to take off my dome (dome) Wake up shookin' at bad dreams, is my sanity gone (gone) I'm looking for a piece of my mind there was torn When my homie stopped breathin' and died up in my arms Thug poetry (Chorus) I'm a thug yes I'm only a thug Walks like a thug talks like a thug I'm just a thug yes I'm only a thug Bust like a thug cuss like a thug Just a thug yes I'm only a thug Smoke like a thug chokes like a thug I'm just a thug yes I'm only a thug Ride like a thug slide like a thug Just a thug yes I'm only a thug Blast like a thug smash like a thug Just a thug yes I'm only a thug Drink like a thug fuck like a thug Hahahaha Aahahhah Aahahaahahaa Fetty chico Shiznilty Aahahhah Ebonic Sleezie Aahahhah You know, you kneezie Aahahhah Rick Reezie BI-AYY-IIITCH (bi-ayy-iiitch) Bloow !! (bloow) |
||||||
| 4. |
| - |
|
|||
|
[ intro: roger troutman ]
Spice 1 Too $hort, yup Said I'm a real playa, yeah Real playa Playa Playa... [ verse 1: too $hort ] Whoever try to buy a new benz, spend money on your friends Order up some shit with a pocket full of ends Ain't no sympathy for suckers, bitch, I'm a hustler For the last 12 years I could never get enough of That cash, I keep it in my jeans, bitch Have you ever seen it? a big pile of green shit? When I spend it, bitch, I'm the man I do what I want, suckers do what they can That's why I moved to the a, straight from the bay I'm still mackin bitches everyday, anyway And if you don't like it, I don't give a f**k I'ma still let my top down and turn this shit up Nothin half on my business, keep gettin paid If niggas stick together, maybe we'll live to see the day When everybody keep ballin like me and my folks Let these gold-diggin bitches count my spokes Short dog in the house [ chorus: roger troutman ] Real playaz do what they want to (real playaz) Suckaz do what they can (ha-ha, ha-ha-ha) (what they can do) Real playaz do what they want to (yeah, real playaz) No time for strugglin (real playaz, ha-ha-ha) Real playaz do what they want to (short dog) Suckaz do what they can (yukmouth) (yukmeezy) (thugged out) (fo' sheezy) Real playaz do what they want to Real thugz gon' hustlin [ verse 2: yukmouth ] Hop in the ranger rover, mob, thrustin this out my car Shit better be hard, ghetto celebrity star Smoke 'dro out of jelly jars Boss to be fraud, catch me at the telly with broads Havin menage-? trois, x-ed out on the celly with todd "short dog, what's up? " he told me roger troutman passed I hollered, my shit about to crash Copped a block of hash, an ounce of grass Damn! poppin crystal, poured me a glass Then poured the whole rest of the bottle out on the flo' for yo' ass This's for my nigga roger, the godfather of futuristic funk Here's the ganja, get it crunk Twist the skunk, hit it once And keep that shit movin and Thug niggas do what they want to, and busta niggas do what you're doin I went from rags to riches, bagged bitches, jags and 6's To droppin a solo album that's sellin more than the last shit did I got the streets and ave's addicted ? ? ? swiss accounts, drunk as f**k in the stretch narrow strippers Real playaz do what they want to (real playaz) Suckaz do what they can (real playaz) Real playaz do what they want to (plow!) No time for strugglin (ha-ha-ha-ha, thugged out, fool) Real playaz do what they want to (real playaz) Suckaz do what they can (check it out, nigga) Real playaz do what they want to (plow!) Real thugz gon' hustlin [ verse 3: spice 1 ] I've come from more bounce to the ounce to short dog and roger troutman Yukmouth, we thugged out for the money and all the power Real niggas do what they want to, suckers do what the f**k they can Self-ma-made-mu-muthaf**kin-man Poppin my collar, li-livin the hustler's dream Ballers fiend for cream, pockets bust out the seams Franklin and grant is my dogs, I die for em (die for em) c-cry, lie, ride for em (ride for em) Nigga, I know you heard it through the grapevine I was out here doin it way too live Doin way too much, I'm tryin to touch 40 million bucks And flip a jet with some ? ? ? , about 14 Flop through your hood, bumpin this shit, smokin sticky green Thugs be hustlin, muggin and puttin muscle in No time for strugglin, keep your mind on bubblin You can't see me through websites, but I still got 'computer love' For my nigga roger troutman, cause he was ridin with real thugs Nigga Real playaz do what they want to (immortalized) Suckaz do what they can (real thugs) Real playaz do what they want to (real playaz) No time for strugglin (westside, nigga) Real playaz do what they want to (immortalized) Suckaz do what they can (for life Check it out, nigga) Real playaz do what they want to (plow!) Real thugz gon' hustlin (westside) Real playaz (immortalized) Real playaz Real playaz Baby, baby, baby Ooh yeah Spice 1's a real playa, baby Yeeeaaah You gotta keep on Don't you know Don't you know you better watch yourself You better watch yourself You better watch yourself You know you got to be... Yeah Don't you be trippin in em streets, nigga Don't you be trippin in em streets, nigga Spice 1 gon' tell you how it's really goin' down Yeah Real playa Playa Playa Playa... |
||||||
| 5. |
| - |
|
|||
|
.
|
||||||
| 6. |
| - |
|
|||
|
( * original lyrics by Ice Cube * )
Drop a old school beat Ha-ha Ha-ha-ha-ha Plow! [ VERSE 1 ] Now the taste of Crystal is fillin up my bladder What's the time on the rolie? It don't matter Had a pocket full of phone numbers I was tryin to sort To make a long story short: Ran into this girl named Sally Knew her from the backseat of my homeboy's Navi She said what's up, yeah, what's the deal? Check the nappy weave, of course it ain't real Then I looked down, she was fat in the front I asked how long, she said, "About 6 months" "Oh, how time flies when you're havin fun" She said, "Yeah, but the damage is done" "Where you been?" "On a little vacation" "Oh, by the way, congratulations Who's the lucky man?" She said, "I got him on file" Then she said, "It's Spice 1", and smiled I dropped my stout, then everything went blank "Had a baby by you, the neighborhood skank?" She said, "Yeah, don't you remember that day?" I thought back and tried to calculate Then I said, "Damn, are you sure it's mine? My homies did the Soultrain on ya plenty of times" She said, "That day, nah, I was whorin And your ass is mine", that's when the sweat started pourin Cause all I seen was Spice 1 up in court Paying a gang on child support Then I thought deep about givin up the fetti What I need to do is kick the bitch in the belly Nah, cause then I'd really be faded That's murder one, cause it was premeditated What should I do? Kidnap the bitch and flee? How many months left? Damn, only 3 I'm gettin faded Goddamn, what the fuck I done got myself into? This shit is dense |
||||||
| 7. |
| - |
|
|||
|
.
|
||||||
| 8. |
| - |
|
|||
|
I peep your thighs when I look in the car
Baby, you ain't got to be on my shoulder to be a star Ain't a trick honey, cuz tricks is for pimps and hoes Just want to get you in the bathroom and take off your clothes Throw that ass on the seat like ??? and me alone Havin' sweaty sex, feelin' breasts with lex on Do it in the brome with diamond links and chrome Just call me on the phone and let me know it's on So sexy when I seen ya, want to hit it right there Picture myself fuckin the pretty curls out your hair Me and you buckin naked, no panties, no one to wear Doin' thug dancin and ??? like Fred Astaire Wanna do it to ya till ya can't taste no more On the edge of the bed about to fall on the floor Shift to high speeds than I hit it real slow Spark up the indo, said baby give me some more Can I Hit It Tonight? CHORUS I got the ??? in the crysty and all you gotta do is come kiss me And if you diss me, honey that's all right My thug game is still tight Just trying to see if I can hit a little something tonight I see the pressure, you want to make a move but you won't I know what you thinking, i'm thinkin' something is wrong Now why you wanna go and do that love, huh? Turn off the lights and give me a back rub, huh Got my mind twisted up, I know what's crackin In the tub, bubble bath, kinky sex and laughin' Keep my heat on the seat of the toilet, you think it's funny Giggling when i'm slappin that ass, countin' more money You know I love you girl I could set a cup on your booty and it'll hold Mob style, livin' them thugged out dreams baby i'm a rider and i'm into some things but I ain't goin into detail honey, just call me on it my partners might call me on the phone in the morning won't wake you up before I go...go, oh no Up early whippin' birdies that don't chirp to get my cash flow Don't take it personal, it's all love Let's do it around the house all night and smoke bud Put some ice on your belly button, lickin' it off I'm tatted up, thugged out, your body warm and soft Can I Hit It Tonight? CHORUS I shove my thug love deep inside, watch you react Sexy as hell, diggin your nails deep in my back Can I Hit It? Let's play a little hide and go get it Smell your perfume through the rooms of the house, come wid it On the back of the sofa, got me bendin' ya over Rug burns on me knees Got my brim on your head with a cigar in your mouth Trying to act like me, trying to be thugged out Like coffee skin tone remind me of pancakes Dancin' on the kitchen table, got me watchin' and shakin' You was waitin' at the house with a t-shirt and your panties on We thuggin in a six, hold on it won't be long Break the bed, bangin' bodies like two Bloods and Crips Got your hand on my thigh while i'm grippin' your hips Call the po-pos cause it's a crime what I do to your body Lost in ecstacy, bombed out, doin' the naughty Can I Hit It? |
||||||
| 9. |
| - |
|
|||
|
(Intro):
Yeah, this is Speezie Ace Black Bossalinie Fetty Chico, Shiznilty I just wanna say I got love for all you haters out there Cause if it wasn't for y'all, we wouldn't be real players Ha-Ha-Ha-Ha-Ha... (Verse 1): We're comin' in group with mob tactics and game Ghetto soldiers when we step on the scene Flossin' diamonds flashin' red beams My squad like the S.W.A.T. team Security areas scopin' I'm with the Fourteen By any means cream rules everything Money is power rather die like a soldier than Live my life as a coward How many players spit the real hits? How many ballers you know that you makin' scrill with? Haters be actin' like the game is gone But they ain't open they eyes I've been spendin' dead presidents since they was alive It's like Newport to G.P.C. Generic haters get smoked quick up because they cheep We Yay deep like a shark I pull you under the water Get you caught up in some thug (Shhhh...) Steady mobbin' and stackin' chips in the dirty Bay Suit angles and hittin' switches thugs ain't your average Marks just give up all they cabbage See the big fish eat up the guppies It's like real big dogs to little pound puppies .22 to a .50 cal.(iber) got 'em curious But my style was a problem child Robbin' banks when I was juvenile I told my P.O. (parole officer) I wouldn't give him no drama But if they try to take my life I'm dumpin', that's on my momma And my little girl the world is pre-timers Waitin' for a player like me to get behind her High Powered (Chorus): High-High-High-High-High (Skit over chorus): (...yeah playboy, real players lovin' to ball Natural Born Riders From the womb to the tomb We're real about this We at this Immortalized, High Powered for life We don't die we multiply Thugs - Energized like them batteries Ball for this moblife, move with Thugs...) (Verse 2): My life is all women and money But the money come over women I'm a worldwide self-made mob figure Ain't no room for suckers duckin' the undercovers Keep my strap on the side for the others who hate to love us Wanna be us, but they can't see us >From a womb to the tomb I'm th-a-th-a-thugged out as a fiend IS Born sinnin' in a world of Yea-dealers Pretty women dickin' in us niggas twirkin' off bomb and liquor Hit the front page of St. Louis Time's High speed'n WESTSIDE patna Felons committin' felonies and got the ATF all on my jock (??) cussin' back at smilin' will never stop We gotta duck see I'm callin' 4 or 5 different ghetto names Bossalinie, Fetty Chico, Shiznilty, Ebonic Slang Sported a rim since a B.G. original Bossalinie I'm tatted up thugged out bulletproofed wearin' a beanie Where the WESTSIDE at? Where the EASTSIDE at? Where the NORTH where the SOUTH where the WESTSIDE at? We're .50 caliber players mo' fools is .22's Murder next to my marrow killin' up streets with the blues Bossalinie, Fetty chico, been around since '89 Steady .9-technism thuggism from the mind To the suckers who ain't knowin, that's just too damned bad I'm from the killa kali WESTSIDE Where we ridin' for cash, I'm high powered (Chorus): High-High-High-High-High (Skit over Chorus) (...they ain't gon win, they can't win We're ridin' for ever, they can't win Patna, you just can't win We're High Powered You ain't nuthin but High Coward It's 1999, Peep Speezie Ace Black Bossalinie Fetty chico, Shiznilty Immortalized Blaooooooooow !!!!!.......................) (Chorus til end) Powered... High-High-High-High-High Powered... |
||||||
| 10. |
| - |
|
|||
|
(Intro):
Killa-forni-A Biaaatch !! Hustlers,players,gangstas,ballers,pimps,players All of those shit, I see all that shit You know, killerfornia Blooow !! Bloooooow !! (Verse 1): I'm hell-bound Niggas wanna kill me in my sleep in killerfornia Where the murderers be ambitious to creep And leave you six feet Sleep with the sharks in the Bay I'm out the yea where they back up shit they talk with AK's Niggas in L.A. trigger fingers itchy to spray Call it the golden state But niggas be rich off the game You get your cash on the Crips and Bloods be bangin' Nigga get your mash on G-locks and Uzi we sayin' Leavin your brains hangin' You'll get caught up in the cross fire Cause you'll be dog meat Lose your life in the jungle Niggas is savages Thugged out and it's hard to be humble When niggas ride up gaffle your shit And then leave you tied up Money and murder I pop them sherm sticks Niggas tend to bring the drama When I bury your dick But I'm hardcore Ready to kill shit up and war Wonder what else this motherfuckin' state got in store (Chorus) So much drama in northern california *cause killa kali is the state for the drive-by* Such a scandalous state but I love the place *that's why I duck when they fly by* So much drama in southern california *cause killa kali is the state for the drive-by* Such a scandalous place had ya smilin' your face *that's why I duck when they fly by* (Verse 2): From Sacramento to San Diego From Compton to the Oakland city Loc'ed up and thugged out Killer's ready to ride with me Stackin caps player pieces Rolexes and saggy pants Poppin' collars drunk as hell off hennesey Smokin' up Grams an ounces of Purple Kush, White Willow n <???> Weed or straight up chronic (chronic) Niggas still out to get paid Fuck the world I wanna die high It's sunshine in killa kali But still the bullets fly Palm trees and sandy beaches But niggas stay strapped with heaters Born sinnin' and ready for drama that's how they leave us 500's and Lexi coupes Niggas roll up with they troops Ballers be flashin' loot (flashin' loot) If you gon jack that nigga be ready to shoot And bring the pain (pain) Cause it ain't no comin' back in killerfornia Fuck with the wrong niggas they turn and blast on ya Dump executioner style and leave your ass goner Still do my dirt all by my motherfuckin' lone in killerfornia Chorus (Verse 3): No self-defense laws Bullet proof vests is illegal But you can go to the gun sto' And purchase yourself a desert eagle All of my homies is felons Some even died in my face Some niggas still ridin' around With a whole trunk full of yey Frisco to Fresno niggas do dirt And ride with their head low Indictments on mobstyle tactic murder for cash flow Cause jail bars Gangstas and ghetto stars Niggas don't give a fuck Bullet wounds and stab scars Hell of players and pimps Hustlers and gangstas with limps Snitches that disappeared into thin motherfuckin' air Haters be dreamin' Schemin to catch ya slippin' Just to get to dippin' after midnight AK's spittin' See the fire from the barrel Standin' down the block I got a flock Of desert eagle fifty cal shots Can't let these sucka ass niggas put one in my dome When I'm sittin' at home with a whole arsenal of my own In killerfornia Chorus |
||||||
| 11. |
| - |
|
|||
| 12. |
| - |
|
|||
|
Intro:
*coughing* Damn! Standing here brings back a gang of memories, man Sitting on this old block All the violence and drugs you know But I lived through it Get this shit on, yeah nigga, you and them motherfuckers Rest in player pieces my niggas Blaaow! Innocent bystanders be laying up in the streets In the concrete jungle where real niggas be packing heat Leaving your insides exposed to the witnesses walking by Here today and gone tomorrow my nigga, we born to die Keep your eyes open partner, ain't no rules in this shit My nigga died with three kids and a wife, ain't that a bitch I can't go clubbing because I'm thugging with some G's for real I see some niggas at the party, then I'm subject to kill Keep my head over the water, uzi in the stash Niggas try to wet me up that's why I dumped on they ass I had a homey named ?oney' now he's R.I.P Niggas set him and killed him for some key's and g's I don't know why they fuck did it, niggas plotting and scheme That's why you can never be blind to a broke man's dream Because see I'm losing it. I can't take it. I miss my peers Talk to my nigga, Makaveli. He's been dead for two years Episodes of divine intervention, invade my mind Got me thinking, ??amn I could've been dead, a couple times' Killer pits and extra clips, around my bed when I sleep Stash my glock under my pillow, twenty gauge by my feet Sitting on my old block reminiscing again For my homies dead and gone in the wind Gone with the wind, gone with the wind Gone with the wind, gone with the wind Chorus: Sitting on my old block reminiscing again Put the fire to the blunt, take a sip of the Hen Sitting on my old block reminiscing again On my homies dead, gone with the wind Gone with the wind (2X) Too many niggas smile in my face and back stab I'm left throwing niggas in the trunk and kidnap Thugging and loving bitches obsessed with this mob shit Niggas thinking they moving and bailing out the cut with the quickness Suckers be blind to this real shit, we bring the pain Bossalini, Fetty Chico, Shiznilti still in the game Immortalized forever, having my homies up in the grave Thinking back on when I used to drank yac in my younger days Bust the twelve gauge shotty, too young to buy liquor Little bad ass niggas grew up to be mob figures Living life on a razor; cars, money and bitches Niggas plotting to kill us, coming in coupes in a milli's We go to war ?il they feel us, bury they ass on the realest (not sure what is said) eliminate you for scrilla Niggas dying on the frontline Spending most of they life ducking the one time, no sunshine In the world of sin, from the gutter to the pen Got me swimming in the game with a brim on my shark's fin Sitting on my old block reminiscing again For my homies dead and gone in the wind Gone with the wind Chorus I ain't no bitch but if you bone me I'm coming Running double trying to murder something Eyes red and heart pumping Serving niggas out the back of the Caddy Hitting corners, ain't no love for you snitch ass niggas in California Ducking suckers and shady bitches, scheming to gaffle riches Niggas living fictitious, running game and selling fishes Paranoia of surveillance vans watching me close Nigga (?) dreams died back in '94 Suckers laid down my homey, I just had to get off Can't be acting like no bitch nigga, because war is raw They say nice guys finish last and the good die young Too many real niggas put to death by the hand of the gun Sitting on my old block reminiscing again On my homies dead and gone in the wind Gone with the wind, Gone with the wind Gone with the wind, gone with the wind Gone with the wind Chorus (3X) |
||||||
| 13. |
| - |
|
|||
|
Livin in a world harcore,
niggaz be dumpin on them foes, catching cases highspeed chases, 40 Gz and 2 kilos, give me everything, cuz i aint all the world seem, seen to much mother fuckin gangsta shit and sucked up the game, times are savage, hardcore playaz aint your average, trunk full of triple beams, and the schemes of cream and cabbage, niggaz die for dead presidents on a green peice of paper, with the smash down for the cash niggaz that was in my thug nation. try to scalp all fuck half the world i want it all! but im bustin at u niggaz, with my back against the wall. fuck u bitch ass niggaz, lil trick ass niggaz, make your name up in my mouth taste like shit ass niggaz, see myself a smokin pistol, when i look in the mirror, its like a hologram picture of a tired up niggaz (ahahaha) you never really really know the game, cuz every time a nigga look up, the shit a changed, chorus nigga i wake up in the morning with a hustle and game, stick a needle in my vain, eatch injecting the game, tired all thugged out, fuck the money fuck the fame, try to make it happen mother fucker, cuz we too deep in the game. verse 2 its time to make it happen get paid, its that nigga s y a s k, tag- teamin for high screamin, plates in the A. there slackers they slangin all day. until the players rock and get paid, like on the ground face down, break yourslf, dont fuck around, and get sprayed, ??????????? paper. im on paper, leavin fakers with the fakers, like loaded pistols to their faces, i told my family as soon as i get the dough, im on my way back home,shit across the border like hard ? standon like noreaga the money maka, scott free across the sea, sippin cone whiskey, with the miggy gz gz. cold red fantasies, board a bocin, kick back floating across the ocean. like the black lack triple ds the mack, slanging the niggaz like keys of crack, back for opportunities, cuz our niggas sees is scratched, playing for keeps, addicted to getting it for quitting it, like the junkies hop fiends, chorus: nigga i wake up in the morning with a hustle and game, stick a needle in my vain, eatch injecting the game, tired all thugged out, fuck the money fuck the fame, try to make it happen mother fucker, cuz we too deep in the game. verse 3 u sound crackin mad cuz i aint getting no younger, and eatch mother fuckin poe poes that aint getting my dough, roll a hummer for the summer, rad katty in the fall, keep my mind on my money, platinum plats on the wall, u niggaz know i wont be fucking around, im bout the cash, and i hope u know im all about action, and down to blast, what the fuck u think, my homies are killas and drug dealers, use pills for sinuses, crash homes and dome niggaz, break bones and stoned niggaz. where u had to be ??? got gome ??? niggaz getting toed out, just dipping just getting niggaz twited up, smoked up. on a mission for the cash, cant be stuck up we mashed. were protection the money figures, protectiing them with triggaz city under seige, probably distruged, because some foes are killas, but no body claimin cuz their fobutaded niggaz, chorus. |
||||||
| 14. |
| - |
|
|||
|
Spoken Intro:
(Smoking & Coughing) God damn! This goes out to you bitch ass niggas speaking bad on the dead This goes out to my nigga Makaveli I wanna say what's up to my nigga Makaveli Rest in playa pieces Niggas die...daily Verse 1: Live the murderous lifestyle Seeing niggas get smothered With my foot in the grave and the other in the gutter Bred being a drug dealer, natural born thug nigga Ballin' with mob figures, soldiers and real killas Tellin' my homies when we hit the weed Avenge me if I die by my enemies Make sure they bleed Put their faces on the front page Blow a nigga in his dome, close range with tha muthafuckin' 12 gauge And tell 'em Bossalini called the shots Still lookin for them bitch ass niggas that murdered my homie Pac Locked up my nigga Major Pain Cause they can't fuck with the realism that came from a niggas brain You jealous muthafuckas still got me strapped I be smokin' on chronic sacks with death knockin' at my back I'm going crazy, seeing shit that ain't real Drunk and shootin' at niggas that I done already killed CHORUS: Trying to get to ghetto heaven cause i'm born to die Hopin' the Lord will see my reason when he asks me why Trying to get to ghetto heaven cause i'm born to die Hopin' the Lord will see my reason when he asks me why Make sure they bleed Make sure they bleed If I die by my enemies make sure they bleed Verse 2: Should they speak on a soldier when he dead Cause when he's livin' all the drama you spittin get your muthafuckin weed splittin Get your money while you still on this earth Born sinnin' from birth Black hearses cursing the turf Carrying dead bodies to the church Ashes to dirt, niggas be restin' in playa pieces like Tutinkam (spelling's wrong) Ain't no cowards in the game nigga, it's Vietnam Keep your killa partners with you but don't keep them too close Cause some niggas is magicians, turn your ass to a ghost And have you watch your body, lookin' at your corpse full of holes Cause some niggas appear to be friends and foes Who really knows? It's a fucked up world, niggas murder you while you sleeping And I'm waitin' to catch 'em creepin' Bitch ass niggas get to die with their eyes open The only real drama is two guns smokin' CHORUS Verse 3: Welcome back to the ghetto, niggas still infected with thug disease Felonies, 60 g's for 2 ki's ??? We all around When it comes to the root of the evil we all down Thugs crying with tears made a cop ??? Lord, what about the guard of the pen in the gun tower Is he going to hell for killin' niggas escapin'? Or going crazy cause his freedoms takin'? Born sinning, niggas dying with their nikes on I'm bringing fear to my enemies, keep them sleeping with their lights on Witnessing death on the streets, muthafuckas be dying daily All the O.G. niggas giving game to thug babies If them niggas catch you slipping than your ass is gone Take your muthafucking head, ain't no vest for your dome CHORUS |
||||||
| 15. |
| - |
|
|||
|
(Intro: Ike Dirty)
(*Blaow repeated in background*) (Hahahahahaha), yeah (blaow) that boombonic shit sound, happen here Spice 1... (Chorus: Spice 1) They wanna keep a nigga under the water but I'm a killer I'ma DIE FO' MINE!!! (DIE FO' MINE!!) But if a nigga try to front on my thuggin' then motherfucker I'ma RIDE FO' MINE!!! (RIDE FO' MINE!!) They wanna keep a nigga under the water but I'm a killer I'ma DIE FO' MINE!!! (DIE FO' MINE!!) But if a nigga try to front on my thuggin' then motherfucker I'ma RIDE FO' MINE!!! (RIDE FO' MINE!!) They wanna keep a nigga under the water but I'm a killer I'ma DIE FO' MINE!!! (DIE FO' MINE!!) But if a nigga try to front on my thuggin' then motherfucker I'ma RIDE FO' MINE!!! (RIDE FO' MINE!!) They wanna keep a nigga under the water but I'm a killer I'ma DIE FO' MINE!!! (DIE FO' MINE!!) But if a nigga try to front on my thuggin' then motherfucker I'ma RIDE FO' MINE!!! (RIDE FO' MINE!!) (Half-A-Mil) I pack twin glocks, sit mad Henrock, get cash in a Benz drop Get ass till my dick drop, how much pussy can a bitch pop? The way she makes that cash nigga thought she had a bounce in her ass Hittin' the switches, gettin' the riches, million put on the bitches Who wanna ride? Fuckin' with us is suicide Spice 1 puffin' on blunts is light one, it's the right one with tight funds from Brooklyn to Oakland No chronic give the po' to smoke one See we bad as hell, outta jail on bail Feds put a tap on my cell, all I talk about is pussy and paper in a hotel sippin' mo', gettin' the dough, 250 mill now we hittin' the door, come take plans raw Leave without your hoes, without rolls, without your clothes, without your dough (Chorus: Spice 1) They wanna keep a nigga under the water but I'm a killer I'ma DIE FO' MINE!!! (DIE FO' MINE!!) But if a nigga try to front on my thuggin' then motherfucker I'ma RIDE FO' MINE!!! (RIDE FO' MINE!!) They wanna keep a nigga under the water but I'm a killer I'ma DIE FO' MINE!!! (DIE FO' MINE!!) But if a nigga try to front on my thuggin' then motherfucker I'ma RIDE FO' MINE!!! (RIDE FO' MINE!!) They wanna keep a nigga under the water but I'm a killer I'ma DIE FO' MINE!!! (DIE FO' MINE!!) But if a nigga try to front on my thuggin' then motherfucker I'ma RIDE FO' MINE!!! (RIDE FO' MINE!!) They wanna keep a nigga under the water but I'm a killer I'ma DIE FO' MINE!!! (DIE FO' MINE!!) But if a nigga try to front on my thuggin' then motherfucker I'ma RIDE FO' MINE!!! (RIDE FO' MINE!!) (Ike Dirty) What the hell YOU cats thinkin'? I ain't gonna bring it, smoke it, drink it, crack it, think it Deep as Regans, fuck your feelings, don't wanna, can't get none Grab your gun, slap your son, split a Half-A-Mil with Spice 1 Whoopin' any nigga like Tyson, sold the stamp Ike Dirty hold it down, eyes everywhere, ears to the ground Sold pounds, sold pounds they area, BK bit area Air in your eyes, airin' you out Steel in your mouth, what's this man about? We ain't heard of me, next you wanna murder me Check my styles as a matter of fact bring your gats so when I come through I'm askin' where the cream is at Seem is as puffin' like the meanest ass, squeeze off take cheese and dash your greasy ass, rap on niggas step on niggas I'll be silent make y'all just check y'all (pause)... Shut up man, (no doubt), shut up man, (haha) (Chorus: Spice 1) They wanna keep a nigga under the water but I'm a killer I'ma DIE FO' MINE!!! (DIE FO' MINE!!) But if a nigga try to front on my thuggin' then motherfucker I'ma RIDE FO' MINE!!! (RIDE FO' MINE!!) They wanna keep a nigga under the water but I'm a killer I'ma DIE FO' MINE!!! (DIE FO' MINE!!) But if a nigga try to front on my thuggin' then motherfucker I'ma RIDE FO' MINE!!! (RIDE FO' MINE!!) They wanna keep a nigga under the water but I'm a killer I'ma DIE FO' MINE!!! (DIE FO' MINE!!) But if a nigga try to front on my thuggin' then motherfucker I'ma RIDE FO' MINE!!! (RIDE FO' MINE!!) They wanna keep a nigga under the water but I'm a killer I'ma DIE FO' MINE!!! (DIE FO' MINE!!) But if a nigga try to front on my thuggin' then motherfucker I'ma RIDE FO' MINE!!! (RIDE FO' MINE!!) (Spice 1) I'm a motherfuckin' killer for realer puttin' niggas up on they back with the ass of a twin flex, smokin' a SACK!! Thinkin' a nigga need to be in a motherfuckin' grave I ain't the one that leave a nigga breathin' holes is laid Up on the concrete face down with a h-h-hole in they back Niggas a pound, sticky green then fuck 'em all We ain't nothin' but real niggas livin' a ball On call seven days a week, killer g's don't sleep The niggas with the casket closed when we creep, creep Pull a job, do it like the motherfuckin' mob Throwin' niggas in trunks take 'em for a little ride Hit the block with the fully automatic with static around the corner niggas bustin' at the hoodie goin' BLAOW!! You bitches better throw in a towel, kill 'em off which is my style (MY STYLE!!, my style!!) Situations occur when you front on my thuggin' I'ma die fo' mine, cause your chrome up in the hummer, bail outta this drama Get the fuck outta the scene, leavin' niggas with they mom where the fuckin' bell ding Thug dreams, learnt from cream, wear my motherfuckin' life on a triple beam But when the enemies see me I'ma dip in the cut Pull out my Uzi and tear his motherfuckin' ass up (Chorus: Spice 1) They wanna keep a nigga under the water but I'm a killer I'ma DIE FO' MINE!!! (DIE FO' MINE!!) But if a nigga try to front on my thuggin' then motherfucker I'ma RIDE FO' MINE!!! (RIDE FO' MINE!!) They wanna keep a nigga under the water but I'm a killer I'ma DIE FO' MINE!!! (DIE FO' MINE!!) But if a nigga try to front on my thuggin' then motherfucker I'ma RIDE FO' MINE!!! (RIDE FO' MINE!!) They wanna keep a nigga under the water but I'm a killer I'ma DIE FO' MINE!!! (DIE FO' MINE!!) But if a nigga try to front on my thuggin' then motherfucker I'ma RIDE FO' MINE!!! (RIDE FO' MINE!!) They wanna keep a nigga under the water but I'm a killer I'ma DIE FO' MINE!!! (DIE FO' MINE!!) But if a nigga try to front on my thuggin' then motherfucker I'ma RIDE FO' MINE!!! (RIDE FO' MINE!!) (*echoes*) |
||||||
| 16. |
| - |
|
|||
|
.
|
||||||
| 17. |
| - |
|
|||
|
Worldwide immortalized
Immortalized worldwide Worldwide immortalized Worldwide worldwide immortalized Worldwide immortalized Smokin endo with my killaz we ride Heat on the side Hella drama niggaz die In crossfire can't let em slide See the rigormortis set in his eyes Nigga surprise You was dumped on by some G'z on the rise It shocked yo ass when I pulled out the chrome I was putting niggaz in the tank before this rap shit came along Immortalized through this thug shit that niggas are spittin A chocolate philly a bag of sticky green and a game to spit We on the mash Put a slug in niggas stoppin my cash Mothafuckas wanna see me 6 feet in the grave Thinking I won't last But I'm a soldier I told you bitches know what the fuck The only way I'm fallin is slippin on one of you nigga's blood I'm in this shit for life and when my casket drop Then my thug presence be immortalized like Biggie and Pac Hear my shit thump in nigga's trunks for blocks and blocks Immortal thug shit'll never stop Immortalized Chorus x2 I can't believe je-a-jealous niggas don't wanna se-e-see me rise Thuggin in the caddy the-they got me thu-a-thuggin worldwide Eternal mobbin immortalized worldwide One thug to the niggaz like eazy-e soldiers who put a dent in the game It ain't the same candy coated niggaz claiming the fame (????) my brain This thug shit'll drive a nigga insane Diamond links and chains With infra red we aim Niggas loced up for the cash when the real G'z came Thu-a-thuggin laced up in my veins I can't be changed Immortalized like dead presidents with they faces on rocks Ebonic sleazy is the language for the game that we chop Green leaves Canibus satives and kryss style 50 Gs making niggaz bleed with pistols Put it down Cuz it ain't no time for fuckin around If a nigga wants to see 6 figures enough no less we platinum bound Remember me the man with the 50 cal in my hand Coming more savage than Tarzan Hear what I'm saying Niggas picking up on my casket but I ain't sweatin you haters Cause if it wasn't for bitch ass niggas it wouldnt be real players Represent to the fullest at the same time dodging bullets This mob shit ain't easy nigga but somebody got to do it Immortalized Chorus x2 Never die just multiply Thug niggas immortalized Energize like them batteries Caught up in the mob life Niggaz be talking that crazy shit when they don't know what the fuck they sayin Making money off rap music when you was in elementary playin It's all real Shoot back at niggas shooting to kill Well if its fuck my life its fuck yo life go to war with steel If you niggas ain't feeling me fuck yo clique and yo hood It's Bossalini straight soldier never went Hollywood Always riding through the streets hitting corners with felons In a bucket or a benzo when we blast it ain't no tellin It's west side till my life expire Mobb music till the wheels fall off mothafucker we all ride Put the fire to the endo sip on the Henn Cause you will never see a bad guy like this one again Put it on you niggas with no mask on Straight smash if it wasn't for rappin I'd be jackin gettin my blast on Chorus x4 |
||||||
| 18. |
| - |
|
|||
| 19. |
| - |
|
|||
|
.
|
||||||
| 20. |
| - |
|
|||
|
Intro:
Coolin on the corner with the cellular phone you can tell that the East Bay was his home More mail than the rest of the pushers, cuz he's got a technine in the bushes Verse 1: And that's how the shit was handled, first name Jack, last name Daniels Had two boys named E and J, E had the nine and J the AK Clocked on a street called Hennessey, robs with a mother fucker named O.E. E had a bitch and her name was Gin, had a nigga named Juice doin time in the pen You couldn't tell that Gin was a bitch though, cuz she was fuckin some nigga named Cisco E and J knew tonight they'd come with two fat niggas named Bacardi and Rum The cap jacks hoe and the sight was scary, the bitch was all bloody and her name was Mary Officer Martini wiped up the body, and all fingers pointed at Rum and Bacardi E and J told Jack the hotel, so Jack tried to bail Juice out of the jail But ol' E had the judge on the payroll clout, so Jack shot the judge up and rolled Juice out Now everybody's talking ‘bout Gin and Juice, Juice shot Gin cuz the bitch was loose Now E is shook thinkin they ain't gonna get me, I'll round up the posse and call up Mickey Mickey was big, he only sold 8 balls, had 99 niggas up against the wall E and J found out he made the call so E and J and Jack and Juice nined them all They were sent to the morgue and Mickey paid the bill, got the money from the bitch (?reckless?) Strawberry Hill Jack and Juice said Mickey wouldn't survive, but Mickey was slick he had a Colt 45 And now he's wonderin how he got the word, it was the neighborhood wino Thunderbird You wonder how the murder rap got so much juice, it was a hundred and eighty-seven proof , Check it out Verse 2: Mickey sent St. Ides after Thunderbird, time for the Hurricane he said word Thunderbird in an alley waitin, wearin a beanie, tryin to get a sip from the cop Mr Martini St. Ides screwed off Thunderbird's top, spilled his drank and gave a swig to the cop But it's too late Martini knows it all, Mickey and his boy OD were slangin 8 balls Of cocaine to the strawberries on the hill, so when he asked for Juice he got a quick fill Mickey had his boy on Bourbon Blocks, the murderous cop killer Mr Peppermint Schnapps Mickey had this thing about nosey cops and it made Mr Peppermint lose his top Martini off duty waitin for the Night Train, didn't know his wife Champaign would never see him again Peppermint Schnapps creepin with the Colt 45, gotta peel his cap before the train arrives Gotta stay low in Broward here comes the train all the boys said the engineers Bartles and Jaymes There was a toot from the train and then a gun blast, Martini fell on the ground there was a big splash Mr Schnapps got up because the cops chased him, St. Ides and Mickey in a ‘vette ready in front of the station But you know Jack and Juice was undercover, and Jack was mad B cuz Mickey shot his lover there was big shootout and Mickey got juiced, he couldn't hang with the 1-8-7 proof Juice was splattered and St. Ides had took a fall, and then Endo smoked ‘em all Check it out! |
||||||
| 21. |
| - |
|
|||
|
(Chorus) 2x
Baby come and go on this jack with me Come and do some savage thug shit with me If I die up in this drama Would you ride for me? You can be like Bonnie and Clyde with me (Verse 1): Fuckin' on the hood of my Benz Robbin' some of your old boyfriends (boyfriends) Dressed in black like twins (like twins) You sexy I'm saggin' (saggin') Bitch put this clip in your purse (your purse) Cause we about to go do some dirt (dirt) These niggas think you won't ride (won't ride) Comin' with the element of surprise I be hidin' in back up the trunk Leave it half unlock so I can dump Muthafucka These bitch niggas play hoe games (hoe games) But the shit gon stop today Cause I'ma take this AK (AK) Stick a Glock in your lingerie And we gon handle this shit like G's , bitch (biAAtch!) You can distract 'em with your cleavage (you know I'm sayin' hahaha) Kick on back with Spice 1 (spice 1) Baby, you can ride shotgun (shotgun) Little rings around your titty-nipples While I'm puffin' on my blunt (my blunt) Just some gangsta shit that I do (I do) When I ride with me and you (me and you) We alone in the middle of the night Rubbin' my .44 between your thighs You ain't scared it's the thug in me Got your lips on my neck and you're huggin' me Tinted bulletproof window so they can't see Just a down-ass bitch and a hard-ass G Hahaahaahha (Chorus): (Verse 2): Feelin' on your ass while you're bustin' out the roof Yellin' : 187 out the stolen coupe (coupe) Baby come and go on this lick with me Born killers like 'Mickey' and 'Malorie' You in love with a fugitive Po-po lookin' for me where I used to live ain't got no more jail time to give B-a-b-a bomb first my prerogative When I see your G-string in a hot tub Clips and gats all around makin' hot love And you're always down for a lil' sex , money and murder Laids up with a reload the gun won't me to serve ya Got you lost in a thug world Fully loaded magazine playin' with your pearl Crystal kinda ?? by the pool-side Got two twin-Glocks : Hers and His Nines Other hoes is fakin' you're the realest When it come to nanana you got the illest Got a nigga hittin' switches in the king-size Me and you get dressed and goin' Hoo-ride That's how we do it Some haters ????? Me and my bitch got you mark-ass niggas scared If you don't comin' with the money she gon empty lead Leave a nigga in a hooptie with a half-head (Chorus): |
||||||
|
