Lyrics:
(Life's difficult, death's easy
LOX, nigga, M-O-B-B, what?)
100 shots to the fuckboys, 21 salute to the real Gs
Live by the code, if I couldn't do that
shit was gone by the next morning
Young wild nigga runnin' with me
Homicide wasn't nothing to us
Dead body wasn't nothin' to see
That pistol play was
and get on tilt
I know it's nothin' for you, the pain to have me killed
I respect the laws of war and love, I live by them shits
Y'all niggas not ready
shit was gone by the next morning
Young wild nigga runnin' with me
Homicide wasn't nothing to us
Dead body wasn't nothin' to see
That pistol play was
stunners, hustlers
Kidnap mothers, rape with no rubbers
What the, hell? What is that I smell?
No, it's not but it's a dead body by the canal
My grill,
gonna live for, who it's gonna be
I big inna red shall burry by the sea
In this all Smirnoff rum with Pepsi
You na drunk, but you looking kinda tipsy
Well
dead in the water
They think we live our lives like the lovers from the silver screen
Oh baby come back to me
I'm all alone by the phone and there's
Put a card in the muthafucka, send it to his mama
Tell her he was dead wrong, dead wrong, now he long gone, long gone
Pac Pac run with us, run with
why'all the type to hit three hundred bars and run out of rhymes
[Angie Martinez]
Brett, from my ByStorm family, with Angie
Come live from the streets,
Run away, hide and leave no trace
Live the last day of your life
Spend eternity hell
Watch the days passing by
You know we just live a lie
Hit
a nigga by his collar
Pistol to his head
When I pull the trigger
Bet a dollar that tricks dead
Dead on arrival wit' his weak boy at the club
Trying to fuck
Bone bone bone bone, bone, bone, bone, bone, bone
Now tell me whatcha gonna do
When there ain't no where to run (tell me what)
(When judgment
him
Pussy boy he end up dead
The devil gon' take him
Thought he'd run off with my bread
He's sadly mistaken
Now he's fucking dead
And his whole life is
Tainted by the love of man
Visions pass by in the endless sand
Seeker shadows lie of what I am
All bow down to the crooked man
Try to run if you can
It's hard to be real when them cats are make believe
Stop it please, come run wit deez
If you can't feel me, then get up and leave
Cause I'm automated
blood up in your mouth
There's a lot of killers, but who the hell are you to play in this?
A lot are dead, how the hell you take the pain?
Live with it
I ain't goin' out unless 30 niggas die
I'm dying anyway so I'm thinking suicide
Run into a crowd of niggas dyin' by the pistol
Took the motheruckin'
fired by the gray man
With shaky hand
But not shaky enough to miss
Hit, Lost Boy in back
So-called Friend runs for door
Leaves First Son
never get dry
Run like the blood from a dead man's pride
Everybody bets with their life
And lately I feel like the meal got tasty
Trying to look
chillin', loungin' at the crib, check it out now)
The, the mic is open, yo
For the Stretch Armstrong show, hosted by Bobbito
How should I start this?
fired by the gray man
With shaky hand
But not shaky enough to miss
Hit, Lost Boy in back
So-called Friend runs for door
Leaves First Son
There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who mohel for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your
no quark
Live my life by my heart
Like I'm one wit the force
Bending & breaking
There's no calculating
The rage in my body
Hulk imitating
You're
I'm a new soul, cold-blooded monster
Vibin' to the radio like a rockstar Shootin' it through like an all-star
Tellin' my mama I'm a rap star 8-16
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