Lyrics:
metaphor
Two steps forward then itʼs one step back
I was raised by the streets to believe there is no setbacks Survived the gutter, step father, brother
Nobody move I got the Six shooter fully loaded,
Finger like an automatic, bout ta let it fuckin go,
And take a bunch of lives, and I ain't leavin
on the scene
Well, it's not that we're rowdy, rude, raunchy or loud
But a match into nitro is like my crew into a crowd
I'ma take a minute or maybe I'll take two
shaka's
Small head-build, means you the small-time nigga
With small thoughts, and small means, of gettin' small figures
By all means, expedite, "Live
cha want to do?
want to ride with, want to roll with the crew, get live with the crew?
In 99, it's time to shine with the crew
Yo what cha, what
(Verse 2)
Live my life BANGKOK, Crotona in the Bronx
From the block, Now Im in that BANGKOK
Pay attention how the kid rock,
Still got that JUICE like Pac
DELIVERED BY c MEMBER OF THE YOUNG CREW:
MEMORcBLE LINES: (1) ”The ghetto is real son, filled with nothing but guns, drugs and buns; (2) Never seen a little
boy I stuck
And I live by the code
The freaky it cost me a loaf
And wouldn't beef with a clown
You know he a joke i had to go get me a load
Made her
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
that got the shorties in the smash)
Take one (take two) We comin through for your crew
(Who are you?) Talkin about you man (you can't Wu)
But you
able to control this?
I know some fok' that live by the levee
That keep on telling me they heard the explosions
Same shit happened back in Hurricane
[2Pac/Makaveli Speaking]
Yo 'Law!
Is it cool if a nigga just get fucked up for this one?
(Sample from "Survival of the Fittest" by Mobb Deep)
I'm
heaters on you
Spittin' back live rounders, with five pounders
If we meetin' on two, I put a beatin' on you
Your sound's tired buddy, that's why I'm
never dialed back
Saturday morning, live, I'm on Soul Train
Talkin' to Don Cornelius
Saturday night, my phone rings
Saturday night, I won't answer
style, I'm still *mini, money, mini, mini,
It aint all about the money*
[Verse 1]
When I was hustla, two dogs by my side plus a black pistola
Loud MCs,
buy, won't stand by
And let a nigga do his dues
Fuck these hoes, get this bread, rep the crew, the
[Chorus - repeat 2x]
R - realest niggas puttin it
bitch swim in it
Feel the vibes move right you
Live life and choose what you do
Got the crew, got the night
Cruising getting high
Rulers of the mind
Tune
Insanity
[Amidst my] Reality
[I'm inside] The gallery
[Don't live by] The salary
[This is my] Insanity
[Amidst my] Reality
[I'm inside] The gallery
loving my style (She love it)
I got a tooly with me with a silencer on it so it don't make a sound (Shhh)
Pew she loving the crew
I need a crib by the lake
live in California, drive a drop top
Roll by the beach, look at the freaks
jump in my car, I do it every week
DJ's who know call me Mister Short
All
keep giving
All of the money that you own to try and live how they livin
And you let yo kids believe that? You gotta be kiddin
I will never succumb
that we bought
It's the stories of the lives of the people we forgot
He was a 40-year-old army colonel and a dad
Served his country in two wars, gave it
number 2. Obama bullied by the bayner and will never follow through so...
GET MORE MONEY and GET MORE HOES
Cus getting more is never gonna close nigga rows
bazooka
Picking up dough from the street like a hooker
Pull up in the club then I left that's 2 cars
Baba God find me, through pass
No love no nothing
If
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