Lyrics:
are my style
Intro to my life style
It ain't really bout popping tags
We gon ride around the city of Kings
In a minute ama show you my dreams
live to see the finish?
Smoke ride joke smile
Float style and ride on out for miles
Cause my, minds racing and times ticking
And friends switching I'm
anything we have to
Me and my niggas prepare to pervail
A duet of the fellas in the last crew
Runnin' with some niggas that will fuck around and smash you
too
Plenty casualties when my crew blast niggas
A Darth Vader with a beard for you Luke ass niggas
Everybody got a gun, everybody want to ride
name be on
When you creepin' on the real with my word is bond
See catch me out in the night pouring style and form
And that venomous shit is
a give your ass answers, only God can know
I don't post on blocks or newsfeeds
I stay in one spot it shots or lose two Gs
And I got everything a crew need
For eachother
But could you ride this dick?
(Huh, yeah)
Do it ruthless smoothest
Don't know who's next
Rather I'd live than I don't
So baby two step
To get a lil freedom they'll tell em it was you, so I stay by my lonely neva wit a crew
No I don't got no homies well maybe like two, but either way it go
Intro:
Schyeah!
Stick em
I said ya best hit the ground and don't be late
Ya crews pay dues with heavy weights
Verse 1:
Been brained in the pain
the shine, ride shotgun
Bowl full of pine that was bud
Yellow the day, the week, the month
Matter fact make me a plaque with a dirt back
Logo on the front,
shit that murderers move with" --> Nas
Music to live by, music to die by
"Understandable smooth shit that murderers move with" --> Nas
Uhh, Music
I'm just trying to make you notice me
Hopping out the Uber with these two bitches caressing me
I know that you stressing me
Started from the bottom
TakeitBackv2
Like Frederick Douglass
It's time to pick my brain apart
Lookin' at the menu, motherfucker
I'm the mane with art
The patriarch of this
it's bout to get wild
Met a lamb at the bar with impeccable style, fucked around and she gave me a smile
So round and round the Mary goes, she never done
drugs
[Verse 2 - Hussein Fatal]
I'm the street's poster child
I'm supposed to wile
With the toast I'm foul
My Murder Inc. mob money, Oprah style
From
live
I socialize with the wise
Underprivileged spiritually deprived
At times in the flesh
Airwaves getting checked
The vibe is energized by
back up quickly
Your style is sickly, but you persist to get me
Or outwit me with the style that I created
Years ago when you was doin' a dollar
Nice, and Freaky Tai
Music Makes Me High
1 for the money
2 for the Lie
3 for my peoples in the struggle gettin by
4 my Fam Lu, Spig Nice,
ya blue black
And ya crew, give me dap like true dat
Yo, I hit these emcees with the grip of death like I was a Vulcan
Ain't a lot of "ifs" an "ands",
[Styles P (Akon):]
(I got my eyes on you!) You got your eyes on me
Get, hit with the thing, try to ride on me
(Said I got my eyes on you!) You got
Pound of weed you can smell it by the door
Palm trees you can have this all season
I'm balling and the niggas ridin' with me
Is ready for whatever, ready
Take two hours and call me back with a new style
[and show me you're prepared for the final frontier]
We're here [the show is over]
The final
they trippin on his kids satan
Demons can run they can hide takin over peoples lives
but everybody know Holy Ghost gon slide
Communion of saints ride
all went away...
It all went away...
Cause the Uncle wouldn't pay..
pt 1 C1
It was a sad sad day, when mix, he went away
The 2 Live Crew would
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