Lyrics:
are cold like tenants
Tryin' to keep your weight up better eat that spinach
For four twenty-five niggas lives get diminished
The world serious, I'm
the day I die!
Chorus:
(2 Live Crew) (They're back!)
(2-2 Live Crew) (Say-whut-say-whut?)
(2 Live Crew) (They're-back-they're-back!)
(2 Live Crew
Mafia way, Lavish way
We Kill niggas for fuckin up the mob
Facts
Live by code die by that bitch, RIP Kimbo
When you in the hood with that chicken
the fuck
Muthafucka could be located nigga could be touched
I'll stab ya ass up
And its up by the cut
I keep my rees(reeboks) strapped on tight
My
your grandma stay, huh, my nigga?"
"This m.A.a.d city I run, my nigga"
If Pirus and Crips all got along
They'd probably gun me down by the end
And though I pack this pound 3-5-7 or 4-5
Will I hide? Will I die? Will I ride?
Niggas never know why
My whole crew, a family clique
Are we sick? Are we live
gon' hit yo' ass up.
You know where we comin' from
Death Row bitch Ay yo Kurupt
You first to blast nigga and you know how we do it
Tragedy, MC Shan and the whole crew, you know how that go
Marley Marl, and my man Big Bo locked up in the piece
And my man Drawz, you know
(Big Mayo
Two by two
Comin in two by two
Never been around no guys like us, it says a lot about you
Two by two
Fuck with my two live crew
Tell me everything
Motherfucker, still ballin'
Niggas wonder why
You could bring your crew, but we remain true
Motherfucker, still ballin'
Now everybody wanna see us dead
Two
gon' hit yo' ass up.
You know where we comin' from
Death Row bitch Ay yo Kurupt
You first to blast nigga and you know how we do it
live in the sky
Tell God, I wanna fly, and let me live in the sky
You ever seen a nigga go to jail and sleep 'til day two?
Well, that's how sick I
live in a mansion
Bitches, snitches comin' out and you know who's showin' it
Like when British civil servants pass secrets to the Soviets
Y'all niggas
yo' ass up
You know where we comin' from
Death Row! BIATCH! Ha ha hahaha!
A yo, Kurupt, you first to blast, nigga
And you know how we do it
We ain't havin that this year
This is comin straight from the Bean, knawmean?
And we ain't havin that
[Name] Street live, muthafucka
Hey yo, Rhome,
want a bite of this, everything is cool
You heard what I would do, and the Triple 6 whole fuckin crew
Nigga, live by your rep but I ain't takin shit
me the way I keep comin' up
Funk runnin' up and mad spots is blowin' up
It gets hot when I manifest melodies
Beatin' niggas all in their heads, so
the dooch powder
Summer's Eve, I drop degrees chill
Come four by four, lose one like Dru Hill
Stay fly till you air sick, now that's ill
Two choices,
(verse one) {:25}
Keep it gangsta why'all, I want to thank you all
Niggas comin' with that bullshit, it's gankin' why'all
We can ride to this kinda shit
somethin' down, we got another one mixed
And, I got ten jibs to find out where another one lives
And, we're comin' equipped, but we ain't burglin', it's one
taste it, you taste it, you comin' right back.
Comin' right back yeah you comin' right back fo' da,
Cocaine.
Y-O-G-O-T-T-I, fuck nigga play wit me
live and real with a street deal
Automatic causin havoc when I hit
I flip and rip shop I'm on some homicidal shit
Little nigga loco, catchin bodies
a mental problem"
Up the glick on a nigga
And have a mental problem
It's supposed to be a drug
Deal but I robbed him
I don't give a fuck, that's his problem
house to the house
Parked the Rolls Royce in front of that (yeah)
I could fuck up the game
If a nigga drop now settle down niggas think he ain't comin
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