Lyrics:
the jungle bro it's cold
Fuck respect, for the cheque they turn you ghost
Win by any means
I ain't tryna take a loss
Out here for the p's
I been tryna make
the galaxy red at the speed of light!
I got what I got
It ain't a lot
Only 10 seconds left
PUNCH IT!
Listen to my chops!
Never by "why" only "how" you roll
provin'
He's worth again
With hammer in hand he wins
Retreated to his home
Loki "died" by suicide and Odin
Sat back on the throne
Okay, let's take it back
It's Cardi
Ayy
Said I'm the shit, couldn't fuck with me if they wanted to
I don't gotta dance
Said little bitch, you can't fuck with me
If
keep a stash safe kid, when I proposed it made her face big
She keep me jigg, glorifying medallions
Got me in clothes made by Italians, feed me
your job every day
And then you work so hard 'til your hair turns gray
Let me tell you about life and about the way it is
You see, we live by the gun,
your job every day
And then you work so hard 'til your hair turns gray
Let me tell you about life and about the way it is
You see, we live by the gun,
Pop-pop turn your sweater to a crop top
Killin' you and whoever in that drop top
Etcetera, etcetera and it will not stop
Just shoot, shoot like doot,
disrespect its a issue
R.I.P like from a cremation to a urn
I was there and I watched you burn you ask me it was not ya turn
Now it's too late to be concerned
(Quincy Tellem)
(Cage got that cold)
Turn
Got this shotgun, I got it sawn off
The nostrils long so we gave it a nose job
Twenty-four hours, I
a couple short
Stay spots in Woodcroft But I got off the porch
Eventually I moved to New York, I always wanted to
Gravitational pull mixed with heavy
Bitch, yeah, ha
Compton most wanted
Haunted by the ghost of the dead
Climbing out the casket
With a bullet in the head
All blue, all red, smothers
off to your superiors, didnt you? So, Johnny, you have to go. Now you only got one chance to stay, and its up to the bystanders. Your fate here is now
that I want so I drove off
Every bill get a better check, show off
Pinky ring on Tom Brady, I'm throwed off
Swear by it
Like they be saying it's up
up some mils, now I'm not comin' off the bench
I been patiently waitin' on my turn, just tell when is it?
I can spin 'em like Big Worm or Vick, I
on my hat in
Ol' English (la-lala-la-la-la-la)
Drive by homicide
R.I.P. tats in Ol' English Westside 'til I die
Niggas pourin' out that Ol' English
Everything P, blowin' by the P, daughter named P
I gon' keep your P, raised up in the P
Right, this shit crazy
Put me on the beat, and I turn it to a murder
ya job, every day
And then you work so hard til ya hair turn gray
Let me tell you about life, and bout the way it is
You see we live by the gun, so
Every day
And then you work so hard till ya hair turn gray
Let me tell you about life and 'bout the way it is
See we live by the gun so we die by
another lane, tryin' to maintain
And baby girl steady takin' dick to the brain
Left no stain 'cause she swallowed it up
Then she wanted to take a puff
I
and drop it off for me!
Baby I know you love it, 'cause that South
Be of the heezy, Kane & Abel
Hooked up with P-N-C and Lil' Weebie
[Chorus-Kangol Slim
the chamber
I can see you run
Nigga I flip my advance before
I ran through it
'cause that money turn haters
Into that barmen fluid
My dope be a 8, from a 1
as we knew
you offered me drink, I wanted more than a sip
But I couldn't let go of the straws I was clinging to
Giving it over, giving it over
I was
the city down
I told the homeboy pump his brakes
He said that he rather put
The pump to his face sawed off
Torture, turn the saw off, it's scorchin'
Hot
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