Lyrics:
and ladies scream out
Don't dwell in the past, live for now
Back on the prowl, thick eyebrows, style's wild
Grab the head, and just..
Swing your own thing
thing
Have mercy on the souls of my enemies, for they not know what they
do
As we proceed, chapter two
Oooh Oooh Oooh Oooh Ooooh
CHORUS
I know it gets
serving ten to twenty
Your boy snatched your girl and put use to your money
You're out for teen, but what does it mean?
You're just a waste young brother
two bottles at the same damn time
Placin' orders and can't even finish all of it
No phone in my loop, no holes in my crew
No flaws in my chain, my
Now we grinding hard just like we wanna do
Grinding day and night so we can kick off our shoes
And live a glamorous life look what we made it
the crib on the floor by my two-way
Now I'm try'nna hold my hammer up, and my pants too
If they don't kill me, they gon' give me a number I can't do
of meeting someone these days you can trust is skinny
But, it seems there really ain't a damn thing you can do
'Cause since the seventies, it seems everybody
22's from your shoes to your knees
I run a record label and a crew of G's
So, niggaz'll come and look for you if ya sneeze
or even breathe the wrong way,
You don't know my crew or who the fuck I am
Step back with your redneck views we ain't given a fuck we do what we choose
Oh I'm rude oh my bad sorry
for your whole projects.
Epcot center linins for ya bitches roli's for dogs.
Now we in tha mall slayin by his bitches.
Everyday I reminisin how he was
live
And they waitin' for everybody to put me in
The rapper category of ya top five
Let me get it back
Ever since I
Came in the game it ain't never
Talkin' shit is real things that the haters do
I'm namin' you
Shit's thick, its time to run for shelter
I kept the word, things could happen to marks
clean for 30 year olds
Who wanna act sixteen
I beg ya pardon
We be live in other genres
While ya favorites just startin
We come back to do a soul check
got more bodies then Drew
I drink Mynotti on New, fuck your crew
This type of shit I do for a petty hobby
Fuck the world it's Fatal
Dog against
I had you for the summer (yeah)
How long do you think I'll wait
Threw my rolex in the trash
Think I got time to waste
Don't mix that Patron, I'ma
in beast mode
Live by the street code, where niggas take your shit like the repo'
The boys'll sell crack, to your mother if you're good (damn
live Mix-A-Lot
You understand motherfucker I'ma hard rock
Beat 'em up and pick 'em up and make 'em miss the stick up
But my gat close range, take his
of sweat that connects me to you
I still be all about that thing that you do
We dip dip dive and herbalize
I don't look over my shoulder but I know there
leavin
And those freaky things you do
Get your hat, get your coat
Your purse, and get out!
You're givin me the blues
Girl I've got
you got 10 mill
I shine so bright I blind ya
Cross my crew, we'll find ya
It's a motherfuckin shame
My dominance to this game
I live for gun smoke aroma
the streets, a young runaway, live for today
When he died, I could hear him say (Thug Life, baby!)
Time goes by, puffin' on lye
Hopin' that it gets me high
[Intro]
One, two, Bone is coming for you
Three, four, better lock the doors
Five, six, better load your clips
Seven, eight, we're gonna test your
You know what I am
You know what I do well at least I thought you knew
They call me Pusha
Damn
I take you like a slap in the face
Every time
are left in limbo
'Cause one loco bro chose to dispose of you
And your skinhead crew
I ain't a house nigga with a twenty-two
I dump a hollow-point
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