Lyrics:
the good life's supposed to be
So give it up because it didn't come by luck
'Cause I could give a shit [Incomprehensible]
Gimme that bomb, gimme that
twurkin' - we workin'
She got to be slurpin' - for certain
[Turk]
Project and hood rat bitch is who I like
A bitch that's 'bout ridin', and goin' on flights
Of the B-I-G-G-I-E, you know it's me
Hoes I thought you know I'm smooth as a babies ass
Smooth as Teeddy Pendegrass, smoke the grass, get in your ass
The Brooklyn born
the kitchen
Put guns in niggas mouth
Like "Who's u dissin'?"
We give for they knew who you was missin
Nigga
You can either have a gun at the chain
Or one
Screaming fuck how it turn out
It's all about the totals
It's all about my brodies
Don't you know we some immortals
I pull up in that Lotus
Smoking rigor
to your knees like a sit-up, bitch
Get too live for the crew, Two-9
We're the new 2 Live Crew, give up, bitch
Send 'em all to Hell, (?)
Spit it like
Yeah, yeah
Pluto
I don't hang with rats, that's some new type shit
Get a nigga whacked on the news type shit
Sip and drankin' Actavis on some
a Benz)
Pray for my niggas (All my niggas), all my friends (Yeah)
In the trenches, warring with killas, we been getting it in
32 shots in my new Glock
no drive-by's
We walked over
COB bandana tied to the end of the AR
Iller than they are, rhymes so sick
Give 'em the day off
This is the chaos, Nicolas
lookin' for a buzz to get hot
Now they comin' over to battle rap
What the fuck we look like, Love & Hip Hop?
(I got somethin' you gon' like...)
My new gun
Juvenile, Lil' Wayne, Baby, Turk, B.G., Manny Fresh
Slim, CEO, and me P. Diddy, B.I.G, Born Again
And we won't stop, get money niggas
a hundred twenty three nine hundred and ninety nine
thousand convicts
Wanted by the beast in the hellified streets
With nullified beef and combat swamp rats
like New York no bomb threats
Not many cities get it in like this
Motown hits motown hits ville
Even on a Monday it's hard ta sit still
Never quit this
necktie from bobbing
Life's a stage, street's the cage
We dungeon rats Outkast and Goodie Mobbin
Enough of the petite talk, I'd rather have a nigga
buryin' my thug passion
I heard it's the bomb
And you got it goin' on
Give me some of your thug passion, baby (thug passion)
You got me drippin' wet
the News say you disappeared
If you can't bang then back up
If you talk heavy then back it up
We the ones causing all the ruckus
So everybody tryna scrap
the News say you disappeared
If you can't bang then back up
If you talk heavy then back it up
We the ones causing all the ruckus
So everybody tryna scrap
the News say you disappeared
If you can't bang then back up
If you talk heavy then back it up
We the ones causing all the ruckus
So everybody tryna scrap
somethin', nigga, pass that
In Amsterdam, we only hang out with hash rats
At a "Stop the Violence" rally, I blast gats
BMI my publishing, get your ass
thrown in a lava tube
And watch the News say you disappeared
If you can't bang then back up
If you talk heavy then back it up
We the ones causing all
niggas, you ain't got the guts
Ridin' dirt bikes with your ass on some nuts
Now you can pop a wheelie to that!
I went from B-more to New York to Philly
fall, then we bomb
Everything is on, till I say it's off
Double R, B with the wings
Then I'm taking off
You niggas got audacity
Cut you off, now you only
'cause that's what they do
Nuke Mecca, New York, the Vatican too
Give me a bomb, I'll drop it on you
Why stop at only two?
You showed the world just
a sandwich first with government cheese
Uncle Black got a new sawed-off
When them booty kids show up we gone blast they ass off
Niggas be mean mugging wide
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