Lyrics:
that you were blessed to live
A hundred percent is what you got to give
'cause ain't no tellin, yo' bullshit start smellin
And you wonder why your
Yuhh
Woo
Glrrt pow
A10
A10
A10
A10
A10
You know the f**cking Vibes n***a
Long Live Pop Smoke n***a
Me my n****s don't lack
Send two shots to ya back
hoes
We move in silence, y'all ain't hearing us coming
I was sent by God to provide that imperial sonnage
Ya'll assembly line of rhymers really
TRU SHIT
Production By Solo Beats
Comin Down Smokin Green/Makin My Cream Servin Fiends/Sippin On Lean Then Pop A Bean 2 Project PT Ghetty
y'all
My crew'll break each shoulder
I'm that nigga they talk about on street soldiers
Cause my street soldiers are heat holders and weed rollers
We keep
(808 my crew) yeah, yeah
Yeah real world, dog
It's us versus whoever
It'll be this way forever
It's us versus whoever
It'll be this way forever
It's
only plays by the tens on the 1 and 2
Hook (x4)
We can do it too
Funkanella, funkanella
[Killer Mike]
A knot to remove your crew of those
to live?
Y'know you really can't say that ya blame niggas
Fuck bein tame, set aflame, time to aim triggers
2Pac'll spark a revolution, fuck
a certain occasion under an illustration
'Cause when I host my show-a I avoid the girl called lola
Who's more pu-pu-public than the drink they call it coca
of crews got cold feet
Hold microphone like hold heat on a old beat
On a roll, brothers gotta eat: whole wheat
Shall not live by bread alone he need meat
dying industry
Like a coal miner
Mr president to simplify, that's an innuendo
By Putin, you’re being played
Like a goddamn Nintendo
Rapping here yeah you
pu**y
and she turned around she leaned over
and asked me was i really in love with a stripper
and i said no but baby its possible
she bent over
the door clocker
I keep it rough with that red or blue shit
Hoo Bang crew shit Recipe new shit
It's off the hinges and my friends is
Rollin
pain
I can get you John Doe by a no name
Catch him at the Chinese store
Pulled two sticks on him, we eatin' Lo Mein
Nah nigga, Smack can't hear
(hair)
away my carear
I'm my Mothers first born, Her last bad seed
Verse Two: Fredro Star a.k.a. Never
Its all about the next caper
The cocaine, props
(Jealousy some of them act idiot)
Westsiiiide!
(Hangin' pondi corner an smoke nuff crack)
Outlaw!
Live it up or give it up, busta!
(2PAC a di artical
, to my QB crew
My LI crew, my Shaolin crew
My Dirty South crew
(What y'all niggas about the Dirty South?)
Atlanta, North Cakalak'
For all my fam, all
the dough
The lifestyle I live is untouchable
So we clutch a few, guns that'll touch your crew
'Cause we learned to do what the hustlers do
Different ways
meet your fate
I'm with Carlito's Way, rollin with the real
Protected to infinity in a security shield
Chorus: (2x)
I want it all
Surrounded by techs
out, I'm the C-A-S-A-N, the O-V-A
And the rest is F-L-Y
You see I go by the code of the doctor of the mix
And these reasons I'll tell you why
You
Y’all must not know who I am
I don't get to the spot till 2 AM
Don’t be mad, lil' mama, cuz you not in
E'r'r'body wanna roll with the crew I’m in
They
to four Auburn or I'm
Passing the Millbrook projects
The Nine Life Crew, one-five-two
Park Avenue, Grand Pu' to ?
I'm a problem on all joints
I need all
to get it
Verse 2
I got a call from my nigga and he just gave the word there’s out of towners up the block and they got a few birds
Rounded up the crew
Yeah it's a picture; yeah it's a job
Maybe that's why I do it so odd
Walk around just like I was god
Kick it so live, when I'm with the gods
Freeway
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