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3:06 | 
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| from Sunset Park (썬셋 파크) by Miles Goodman [ost] (1996) | |||||
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5:56 | 
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from Big Mike - Somethin' Serious (2005)
Hey, this shit is somethin serious, boy
Check it out (Chorus) Creepin and rollin, you know what time it is Oh yeah, a brother has gotta get down for his (Verse 1) What's happenin, my nigga, my nigga, my nigga, my nigga, my man? Once again I know what you're thinkin, once again I know what your plan Is, been playa-hatin a nigga like me for years But now I'm changin gears Fixin to move on, fixin to buy a brand-new home Polishin up my chrome For your ass cause I'm back up on the block 1994 and I ain't sellin no more rocks Back with a sack and niggas know I pack A glock, so stop before I put you on your back Down with S-A, the place where the best play Best pray if your chest ain't where your vest lay Southside rollin wide-sized Bitches say we high-side because we pass by You don't speak, but she's just another freak Cause I know my nigga been fuckin her for weeks And I rather not waste my time, I just mash out Blowin big smoke in the glasshouse Two deep, me and my nigga O.D. Smokin swisher sweets comin up on Scott Street (Chorus) (Verse 2) I deal with the five S's before every Monday Shit, shower and shave, and serve on Sundays And it's funny how these hoes be jockin ours Because I'm rollin in a candy-blue glasshouse Gold Shoes on my hoe Thinkin about committin suicide cause she got fo' do's And brand-new Vogues And a trunk full of amps to hurt em at the soundshow Breakin em off a proper piece And the shit won't stop until the jockin cease So follow me as I creep with my niggas on a flip My cup overrunneth, so come and take a sip (Chorus) (Verse 3) Now I got you interested And everybody wanna see the man, the Peterman Little kids wanna be the man And grow up and fuck hoes And rock shows, ride Vo's, and slam mansion do's Nigga, cause it's like that Growin up on flat, havin dreams of livin fat And I can't do it no other way Doin it the southern way So fuck what another say G to the e to the to to the o To the B to the o to the y to the s's Houston, Texas where niggas get restless And wreckless, no easy access, don't test us Nigga, recognize where the best is Fool Creepin, rollin, you know what time it is Clownin and strollin, gotta get down for his (Chorus) Oh yeah Doin this thing like this Roll em up Palms up in the air Yeah, that's right Let the sun hit it Back for it like this, you know Cause they thought I wasn't comin back Still doin the same thing Yeah Creepin, rollin You know what time it is I'm just Clownin, strollin You know |
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6:22 |
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| from Big Mike - Somethin' Serious (2005) | |||||
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5:36 |
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| from Big Mike - Somethin' Serious (2005) | |||||
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5:19 |
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| from Big Mike - Somethin' Serious (2005) | |||||
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| from Big Mike - Somethin' Serious (2005) | |||||
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from Big Mike - Somethin' Serious (2005)
Now as I flip through this world of mine
Everything is lookin peaceful I'm checkin out these people The ones that's doin good and the ones that's doin evil Now as I flip through this world of mind Everything is lookin peaceful I'm checkin out these people Some doin good and others doin evil I heard somebody say I'll do anything nowaday to make a buck Cos niggas are dyin and nobody gives a muthafuck And you be wantin to trip when I be talkin about murder and thangs I think it's obvious that you ain't never heard of mine What goes on in the neighborhood East coast, West coast, ain't shit turnin out good Sometimes I wanna cry And straight put the 9 to my muthafuckin dome and let the bullets fly But mama said I'm too strong to break down And I'm caught up in another drug shake-down Cos they think I'm sellin birds But i'm workin 9 to 5 and still ain't gettin what I deserve So who's fuckin who Is it that white man or the black man standin next to you See, most blacks can't handle power Get paid and get to changin by the hour Closin all the doors Got a little paper, now they wanna treat they people like hoes Now after takin a look at that How the fuck you think the white man is supposed to act See we can't check the peckerwood If we can't treat our own fuckin people good We wanna pick the fruit, but the fruit ain't ripe Yeah, now who got the right to write Now as I flip through this world of mine Everything is lookin peaceful I'm checkin out these people The ones that's doin good and the ones that's doin evil Now as I flip through this world of mind Everything is lookin peaceful I'm checkin out these people Some doin good and others doin evil Niggas are gettin fooled by the president's plan In jail they got a president, but they call him the boss man The boss man is prejudiced, hurtin em with politics Better let em out quick or they gon' cause a riot, bitch Even if you lock the door they still got the power Cos the fuckin white house reminds em of the watch tower The man is watchin over us, steady controllin us And if we make a move he's ready to put a hole in us Everytime I step he's always around me To tell the fuckin truth, I feel safer in the county At least in jail I know what I'm up against But everything is a muthafuckin mystery outside the fence Thinkin that we made it, but we ain't made it yet And it's gettin harder cos the man ain't givin up shit, bet Steady lettin us down And ain't nobody helpin us out Now as I flip through this world of mine Everything is lookin peaceful I'm checkin out these people The ones that's doin good and the ones that's doin evil Now as I flip through this world of mind Everything is lookin peaceful I'm checkin out these people Some doin good and others doin evil Yeah A new beginning Big Mike Comin from that swamp You know Just kickin it how I feel And that's on the rea |
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from Big Mike - Somethin' Serious (2005)
Hmm, heh, stay wiv me
(Chorus:) Loud house and chains and swangin thangs (I gots ta have it) Just another young nigga havin thangs made Time plans change and change comes with time Throughout these years I learned to get down for mine Had to do some crime With the attitude of not givin a fuck Born with no luck, refuse to stay stuck I make the bucks Did what I had to, I did what I could My rise to the top was no surprise cos I knew dat I would make it, oh, the chance I had to take it Fake it, never because that nigga was too clever If there ever was a motherfuckin die for his crime it had to be me, the B-I-G Mike and he straight G Come sun down, come sun up, gun up for dem niggas who wanna run up wishin my colly came up short, that nigga done what? Fool, you think black nigga don't go for no losses I had ta get rid of my runners so I recruited mo' horses Down wit neighbourhood bouncers I made a connection in rows Laid up with elbows in vogues I just kick back and stack rows and hoes (Chorus:) Loud house and chains and swangin thangs (Stay wiv me) Just another young nigga havin thangs made (I gots ta have it) Loud house and chains and swangin thangs (All my stuff here like that) Just another young nigga havin thangs made Times are changin, I'm livin my life in and out the dope, black! Loungin here and there somethin screamin in my ear "Michael go back home!" but I ain't really sure, black I gots ta get my shit together the right way, nigga I know that Comin up short, swangin by the tail-in Thinkin of a masterplan, this nigga's bailin down the road and I promise not to look back at what I once had, what I have now, would've left left when I was two, black Shook that, now I'm in my own realm Controllin shit, kickin it, never knew life could be so damn well I got mine, everything feelin lime Time for a change and change comes with time (Chorus:) Loud house and chains and swangin thangs (They done) Just another young nigga havin thangs made (Hmm!) Loud house and chains and swangin thangs (Fool!) Just another young nigga havin thangs made Lock another nigga up, throw away the fuckin key That's the way they punish me, motherfuck society I can spend a century in a penetentiary it won't make a difference G cos ain't nobody missin me Round and round and round we go, a diff'rent day, a diff'rent face Damn I wish I could run away, I hate this motherfuckin place Too many goddamn rules that's why I quit school Givin me a quickie test, I ain't no damn fool Can't walk out my house because they always in my face And if I step outta place, they wanna give me a case Ain't no difference between society and a jail house Everybody's locked up and wanna get the hell out Just cos you ain't locked down you think you got it good but you better think again cos the police are checkin niggas in the neighbourhood beatin our ass down Cos society is just like the pen so get ready for the lock-down Clock now while you can, man huh cos it's all about havin thangs An' I'ma get mine fool! Time for a change and change changes with time (Chorus:) Loud house and chains and swangin thangs (Hmm) Just another young nigga havin thangs made (x4) |
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from Big Mike - Somethin' Serious (2005)
what's happening mister big man with all your money and cars
i see you walking around like you's a motherfucking star expensive clothes high class hoes right now you're on top of the world i suppose claiming that you're macking but i know that you ain't the only time you can pull a hoe is when you (pulling) out your bank taking (on) my (wine) and my gang and shit so you can get your dick wet mister slick but after all that yo you still can't keep her 'cos a nigga likes myself can come along and sweep her and have her screaming oh big mike nigga you slanging them dollars but you ain't slanging that dick why now you know i (???) your hoe so now you run and get your pistol madder than a bitch screaming that i dissed you but nigga i ain't diss you you know the story joe don't check the motherfucking pimp check the hoe now baby's playing for your money you're playing her for her drawers she takes your money brings it to me i'm playing both of y'all who's the mack who's the motherfucking pimp who's the motherfucking man and who's the motherfucking simp it ain't me 'cos i ain't giving up a penny steady fucking her while you be giving up plenty now nigga tell the truth i ain't a dunce out of the six times i fucked her you might have fucker her once and after you caught a nut you had to get up prime time and take her to the nearest store so she could spend your dough every time you fucked her you got to pay a fee and oh yeah thanks for getting her hair done for me g it looked good when she came over the other day sucking on my dick all i could see was her hair anyway remember that shirt that she bought you on your birthday i got two of those and pair of pants and shoes on the first day huh i'm just a playa y'all now every time you see her you want to grab her butt and act like you love her but she don't give a fuck don't want to meet your friends don't to drive your benz just want to get your ends and then she's gone again uh flipping on a mission with another nigga you know even though you try your hardest you can't figure this so seen it before but you still laying down for the tramp gave you some pussy got you sprung and then she just up and (vamp) now tell me what that be like bought her some shit to wear (???) for her hair she with me right face it nigga that's the way you made her the bitch that she is to day but me i'm a playa |
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from Big Mike - Somethin' Serious (2005)
(VERSE 1: Big Mike)
On the real, baby, I ain't got no ends Yeah, I got a record out, but I ain't got no Benz You ought to be glad that I'm givin yo ass somethin Cause it's some niggas out there that ain't givin up nothin Then he got a baby, but the nigga don't take care of it Anything I make, my baby always gets a share of it Yeah, a young nigga tryin to make it And it's gettin harder when you're always on my back tryin to take it And it ain't even gotta be like that Gettin at me like that ain't gon' get your fuckin pockets fat Used to have some love for you, but now you're just a selfish bitch Takin all my money, spendin it on your self and shit Or that nigga that you stayin with, layin with But on the real, I ain't that nigga you should be playin with Cause when I'm dead Ain't nobody gonna take care of another man's kids, he might, shit Nine times out of ten they don't Nine times out of ten them muthafuckas won't So baby, pump, pump yo brakes and put a end to all them hoe games Cause hoe games equals no game (CHORUS: female background singer) Comin (comin) Comin (comin) Comin on the real (Comin on the real) (VERSE 2: Big Mike) What's up, young fool, I see that you're anxious To jack a nigga like me cause you ain't got no patience Think I'm rollin Daytons or maybe even Elbows The only way I roll em if I catch em on sale, bro Huh, I'm like you, tryin to get my hustle on Ain't got time for no muthafuckin scuffle, homes I'm sellin records, and you be sellin crack I got fans, you got the police on your back But I don't knock you, cause I used to do the same So don't knock me cause I'm in a different game See, it's still about comin up Still about puttin niggas on they ass if they be runnin up Different game, same atttitude Everybody wanna take shots at the badder dude But it don't matter, dude, on how you feel Cause I still kick back and make a mill And that's on the real (CHORUS) (VERSE 3: Big Mike) Shake em up and let the dice roll I bagged dough two times and left a nigga twicefold Fight sole on the peewees Be makin em raise up when I hit seven easy See me makin muthafuckas break theyself To the point where they wanna shake the dice theyself Fool, what you think this is? I'm 22 and I been tryin to stack bank for years Huh, and in my dreams I seen That life ain't all about makin money and havin yo face on the scene It's about bein comfortable, takin care of yours And that's what I'm strivin for And with God on my side Ain't none of that hard to find And that's on the real (CHORUS) |
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6:57 |
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| from Big Mike - Somethin' Serious (2005) | |||||
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5:42 |
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| from Big Mike - Somethin' Serious (2005) | |||||
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3:13 |
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| from Big Mike - Somethin' Serious (2005) | |||||
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| from Big Mike - Somethin' Serious (2005) | |||||
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6:37 |
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from Big Mike - Somethin' Serious (2005)
(feat. Scarface)
Push, push, push, push... Here it comes... It's - it's a girl (Big Mike:) 1971 a young girl gave birth Only a child, bringin another child on this earth Only 15 years of age But comin from the ghetto, it won't make the front page See, that's the way shit go And to the government she ain't nothin but another hoe Thinkin all she want is food stamps Give her a check and let her hang with the school tramps And mama's gettin mad Cause now she gotta watch her little girl grow up fast Straight ghetto life, straight ghetto drama Wanted a baby doll, now she's somebody's mama And life is so confusin to her Askin herself why is this happenin to her So now she gotta choose Between a box of Pampers and a pair of new tennis shoes Never had to make that choice before Never heard a baby's voice before And the daddy ain't nowhere to be found Too busy bein a hoe around town He just fall into another statistic Claimin black men don't do shit But that's the way it is And little do they know daddy also sheds tears Cause he don't know what to do Be a father to his child, or run with a crew You might say: easy choice, be a father But why should he do it when his father didn't bother? Just another sample, I guess Of black men settin bad examples Thinkin deep about the whole thing Takes his last bit of money and goes to buy a gold ring And askes her to marry her Promise to get a job, so he can carry her Thinkin that's the way to do it But little do they know that there's much more to it Cos marriage is demandin It takes lots of patience and understandin But they go and tie the knot anyway And they'll be gettin their own crib anyday The first couple of months were alright A new crib, adaptin to a new life But then came the arguments And the constant fightin got em thrown out their appartment So now they gotta move in with her moms And that just adds to the muthafuckin problems Cause now he's feelin like he failed And while they asleep he grabs his shit and bails Smooth out the do', black And never takes another look back Now grandma's house is an unhappy home Now that daddy's gone (Scarface:) Daddy broke before I stepped in this muthafucka And left the job to be done by my mother's mother Raised up by grandmother ??? Cause my mark-ass daddy never came around for guidance So now I'm forced to stand up on my own two Cause mommy dear had to work three jobs, duke He didn't even want my friendship I guess the mark-ass nigga wasn't down to begin with Too lit to come around with his drunk ass And beatin up my mom with his punk ass And shit got dread I guess I shouldn't talk so bad about my dad So here it is, brothers If you gon' have babies, you need to father them muthafuckas Cause if you don't in due time Your kids'll speak about daddy exactly like I do mine So do yourself a favor Take your kids to the park, buy em shit, and they'll pay you later But payin's not the issue If you'd die right now your little kids wouldn't even miss you So put away your caddy Call your bitch up and tell her to make room for daddy Cause if you don't you'll be alone And the only thing they'll say about daddy, is daddy is gone |
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from Scarface - My Homies (2005)
(feat. Big Mike, DMG & Yukmouth)
Verse 1: (DMG) You wonder why, I hang with these thugs Whut, I'm from the hood Nigga, I gives a fuck (I gives a fuck) It's in my blood Since I was little I been hangin' with these Niggas And till I die I gon remain with these Niggas St. Paul in The M-P-L-S, I hear you callin' I put it down yes Now Chris Rock were you at I heard you say some shit about some blacks Nigga, this been your ass back Come see the real deal Stay in the fields Nigga These Niggas will kill This ain't no cap-gun shots, Nigga This a Glock, pah, pah, It's death on your block Knock, knock Whut's up Nigga? These sirenes start singing It's me and Yuk with the L-G in the makin' It's stinkin', freakin' Bowlin' on the weekend Creepin, seekin' Me, till the currency Gimme stacks up on mo' stacks I'm dubble parked for the train Even your moms know my name I be the D into the M and the M into the G And I bring the B-O-M-B-? Nigga Chorus (Yukmouth) It's In My Blood Smokin sweets, drink 40's to the suds And fuckin wit these thugs, Nigga That's In My Blood You wonder why us niggas be hustelers And out there slingin' drugs, Nigga That's In My Blood That drug money, stuff that shit up under the rug And make that Nigga bug, Nigga It's In My Blood Niggas like me turn Niggas like you into hustelers Fuckin wit us, fuckin wit us! Verse 2: (Yukmouth) It's in my veins Like a chain-reaction How it all happened Paps is slangin' crack in the mid 80's Back in the day when shit was crackin' Niggas pay 38 for a package Tightly rappin' For shippin' and handelin' taxes was added That's where the A-raps headin' Even when I sleep they in cavage Lavage shit Do automatics with scopes under my mattress With the dope and the drugmoney, stuffin' that shit up under the rugmoney Thug hungry Takin' drugs only cause we love money I'm a Nigga, he's a Nigga, would you like to be a Nigga too Makin' big scrilla like these Niggas do You probably be a drugdealer too Scan and tuned in to the boys in blue Listen for clues In the kitchen bakin up Peruvian flake It takes 28 grams Multiplied by 36 zips to make A triple beam brake, a triple beam shake A hundred grams on the triple beam flake 2.2 pounds to be straight My Niggas just flew in from GA Ready to buy 4 kilos Then drive slow back to Youngstown Ohio So fuck these rhymes Let me stick my dick in your ear, and fuck with your mind Nigga Chorus Verse 3: (Big Mike) Niggas betray themselves as low key, broken down and fabricated Easily ejaculated, table with and half way faded Ain't no wars cause they made it That type of bullshit is outdated But I played it like I laid it My partners have always said that It was set me up For life Money, clothes and hoes but road I chose was Nothin' nice Niggas know just what it's like to be hustelers Governors from strugglers Bitches lovin' us Blindly chasin' that life we lust I blush, bottles, havin' thoughts and iring dreams Goin' down and roll fast Tryin' to get what my eyes have seen Fried of me, huh Nigga for a hand that got me through these eyes right to see But part not I was blind to the point, not even I could see, or that I could be Obviously I wasn't meant for me this type of trickery Hit me with the type of mystery Lay it down like history With the intend of be myself and I Street desire, easila Piece of mind, I was least to find Some sassiness Hossisiless it gets to shit and praise to the farmer innercist Nobody was meant for it, it was deadly And I was discontent With the shit that life once sent Government depend, now most of my time is spent Escapin' what I love It's in my blood Chorus x2 |
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| from Big Mike - Still Serious (1997) | |||||
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from Big Mike - Still Serious (1997)
I got a thorn in my side and I wish someone would pull it
I'm thinking about giving this motherfucker a bullet But I ain't going out like that I got too much at stake To let myself be brought down by these snakes They fake and everybody know it Hell, they be tryin' they best not to show it But it coming out like sweat from they pores I sees 'em everywhere with these 5 dollar hoes Callin' for a war but they don't want no trouble If I really had my way I'd spank that ass on the double These niggas mumble, Conversations with they partners But, they best-a take vacations Before the catch hot ones They whereabouts, I always know And little do they know I got niggas ready to blow up they homes But I'm-a tell my niggas to freeze that Ain't no need to go to jail or hell behind these fucking thieves, black Fuck that (See these niggas ain't right, it's about time we all get hype) We'll see 'em on the street when it's meant to be when the time is right But until then, stay cool only time'll tell When it's time to make these motherfuckers raise up and bail Set sail Get the fuck up off the block nigga Or better yet, gimme what the fuck you got I want everything from the dope to G's, expensive clothes, elbows in vogues and Lexus keys (chorus) We sendin' letters to bitches who were about to get-get it Sealed it with kisses and blew their brains when they read it Let it Be your first fuckin' lesson Zero tolerance for niggas disrespecting leather connections... Now I hear they got several niggas out to get me Puttin' out hits G, but to me they talkin' shit, see Cause they ain't holdin' a motherfuckin' thing Neither him, his hood or his motherfucking gang They let gunshots ring Every day and every night But they ain't hittin' shit, cause they ain't hittin' Mike They try with all their might, but I watch 'em all fall, big or small I'm-a fade 'em all, fool Call me crazy but I don't give a damn It's obvious to me, that they don't know who I am, cause see Them payback niggas don't go for no losses I do some wicked ass shit and watch niggas fall in coffins, often So don't try and test the Black, my knock I bust back into the motherfuckin' ??New Jack?? I stack Every night and every day And don't give a damn to what these hoe-ass niggas say (chorus 2nd version) We're sending letters to bitches who were about to get-get it Sealed it with kisses and blew their brains when they read it Let it Be your first fucking lesson zero tolerance for disrespect leather connections I'm exing these motherfuckers out like wrong answers Get a grip, I got a hold on your ass like cancer Make 'em dance, I make niggas do gymnastics Pull and try to cash this Set 'em down in caskets, yeah It's been a whole year and I still ain't fall down My shit still circulate through y'all town It's a small town but, compared to other cities It really don't matter cause the situation's still shitty Or will they get the motherfucking picture And if I shoot and miss, then I'm-a have to get ya, hit ya With something real, something harder to steal Something serious nigga, that I know you'll feel, now How many motherfuckers gonna fall when I come around How many motherfuckers like y'all gonna hear the sound I thunder on your motherfucking back Like a whip when I flip You'll hear that bitch crack your back You bitch ass niggas don't want no static I'll leave you feenin' like an addict when I work my magic It's like voodoo Coming from that swamp I might do you You'll get your ass stomped (repeat 2nd chorus) |
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from Big Mike - Still Serious (1997)
These niggas ain't feelin us
It's the best kept secret, baby Down south We got women on the beach Swerve on streets Players ridin drop And the flips won't stop (Verse 1) Now tell me what y'all know about a player like me comin through steppin I'm wreckin, New Orlean'an, and in 1984 turned Texan Lyrically flexin I made a name for myself Gained love, not in clubs, on streets, and I dealt With these playa-hatas out here among us in the game I had to pass em by cause it really wasn't my thing Now don't you wanna scream it like you mean it To them fools who said I couldn't do it The ones that said that if I left the group, then I'd be ruined Keep on doin what you're doin That's what my conscience said, use your head, and you'll win Cause them haters who I thought was my partners, wasn't really my niggas They reneged, they couldn't stand to see me get big in the business That's why they player-hated me Talkin my business to them broads like we related, gee? It never faded me cause I know where my head is at Know where I'm headed at, that's why I keep on makin... (Chorus) Now the deeper the root The bigger the square of the loot When people think of the bomb shit, they think of the boon, fool I'm speakin the truth, partner, seek and you'll find Southern dialect, I'm regulatin, that's how I gets down for mine (Verse 2) It's on to the break of dawn So why should I stop kickin these fly-ass rhymes That's puttin these knots in my pocket? I'm About to rock until I can't no mo' I'm takin this here all the way to the bank for dough Cause y'all know, as long as players turn into rappers And rappers turn into actors, all these broads'll be gettin atcha Now which non-believin MC wanna see what time it is? The rhymin wizard's about to show you haters what southern rhymin is I'm bombin kids, I show no mercy on a braveheart Put it down in '94, and never gave thought Caught every ???, every ass, checks got cashed Fools got slung like the trash, I mash >From the scene, never seen by no witnesses Partner, don't try to play dumb, look, you know what this is Quit the biz cause y'all ain't ready for the outcome No doubt, son, I'm from the south, and never lost a bout, son (Chorus) (Verse 3) Now, don't step, or you'll get ruined, mayn I got you trippin on the way a soldier's like me over here doin things You knew the game, but you blew it again Now the head honcho is back, so non-believers, hand over your ring Give it up or get broken down It's goin down now, Mike Dean supplied the potent sound So now you know it's a southern thing I'm handlin things, I bust a rhyme and do damage to any man you bring I'm serious, I told you that way back in '94 They wanna flow, it ain't no thing, just let the record go Didn't you know I bust from southwest to southeast? Blessed by the best with this platinum-plated mouthpiece So I give thanks, then it's off to the bank Protected by forces unseen, so I ain't gettin ganked As for the fakers and the haters Small things ain't nothin to a player I'm all about my paper I stacks my chips and then I break Gather up my crew to Mike-a-nize, then we go and rock another state Forget what another say, I'm backed up by my actions Produce a dope hit, make a lick, and leave em askin Who is Big Mike? and like that I'm back atcha Partner, handle your businesss, I ain't mad atcha Million dollar lyrics I compose leave a pattern for quality stature (Chorus) |
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from Big Mike - Still Serious (1997)
(Verse 1)
My lil' partner be talkin about it's been approximately Five years and four months from the day That all these niggas done came up around his way, what can he say You can ask Shelley, and even she'll say (hey) These niggas be callin themselves big shots ever since he been away Even Dante got a little size upon his chest Maybe it's from the reinforced teflon vest But nevertheless, he takes it all in stride Talkin about (these niggas got theirs, it's only right that I gets mine) Nah, don't go near them niggas, son, you might get shot Believe me when I tell you: things ain't the same on the block They got glocks and shit done changed For a buck and some change They might blow out your muthafuckin brains These niggas ain't thinkin when they're tryin to get a piece The only peace you better get is of mind And stay your ass inside Wide eyes actin sheif and shitty For attention hoe-ass niggas'll have a mortician ready to fit me For a suit and casket, it's gettin drastic My nigga got hit in his shit, some say he was askin For trouble, true, and he found it with a .44 mag They took him out in his jag (yo man went out bad) Such a sad, sad song if you ask me Blood on his t-shirt and khakis, brain in the back seats (Goddamn) that's exactly what I said But now my nigga's dead behind that fast life that he led Shedded some tears, but they all got wiped away I love my nigga, I put his name on my license plate I live my life this way cause that way'll get a nigga stank No more smokin dank on suicide quests for bank I puts it down on tape and reap the benefits Like the smart niggas who grew up and quit that shit Life is precious, cherish it while you have it It's enough loot to go around for everybody to live lavish (Chorus) Everybody wants a name Everybody wants the fame People playin suicide games Tell me who's to blame For all the pain and things That we can't explain (Verse 2) Partner, it's cold outside, and the temperature's steady droppin But these niggas ain't stoppin as long as drugs sales are poppin They clockin a grand a day, muthafuck what the man will say Villains kidnappin to kill a nigga, and they plans to stay So when I sleep, I sleep with one eye closed Cos the fellas ain't the only ones schemin, even fly hoes I knows this, I seen it all in their fangs I stay alert cause muthafuckas do dirt with half a chance And I plans to be around, not six feet in the ground Kickin back with other blacks enjoyin the sound Of our kids comin up in a similar fashion Makin it happen, gettin theirs without askin Until then I keep on rollin with the punches Collectin dough in bunches, layin my head on plush shit A hunch kid,'ll get your ass a long stay But a little bit of faith'll carry a nigga a long way (Chorus) (Verse 3) Now, show me a man who ain't afraid to die, and I show you five Choose a rule, so partner, choose your side Recognize with your own eyes this ain't no false statement I'm from New Orleans, where bullshit ain't shakin You gots to qualify, be down to die These punk-ass niggas around my way thinkin they hard made it hot outside You got your pride, I got my love I'm too swift with the gift, you find no blood on my black glove Now I'm above all that chitter-chatter But a year ago you was about to throw a blow, now tell me what's the matter Collect the data, I had a year to put this out I got one more bomb in my palm, now bet I miss your house Now is you is or is you ain't? Ready to put your goddamn life on the line for that bank You better think, but partner don't think too long My people stay strong, we know where we belong (Chorus) |
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| from Big Mike - Still Serious (1997) | |||||
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| from Big Mike - Still Serious (1997) | |||||
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| from Big Mike - Still Serious (1997) | |||||
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| from Milo Sheff - Sheff Happenz (2004) | |||||
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| from 805Rider - Time to Roll (2010) | |||||
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| from 805Rider - Time To Roll (2010) | |||||
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| from 805Rider - Time to Roll (2010) | |||||
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| from 805Rider - Time to Roll (Remastered) (2010) | |||||
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| from Baby Drew - Making Plays [digital single] (2018) | |||||
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