Lyrics:
a thin-walled flat
When i happened to upset
My neighbour, a gulf war vet
By playing this album moderately loud
He showed up at my door
Then started to shout, with
live my life without you
All you ever seem to do is scream and make it all about you
And so I doubt you
I doubt you even know what's on my mind
I
of weed to keep from going under
The federales wanna see me dead
Niggas put prices on my head
Now I got two Rottweilers by me bed, I feed 'em lead
Now
career's a prophecy now
Better grab your jacket, 'cause in this world we live in it's cold out
And when my album hit the stores it's sold out
Like these
niggas in the yard up north
with long swords, ready for war, who paid cost
and take ya life lost, never found again boss
A job well done, relax,
FN should give me and this nigga an endorsement
Yea, we in this bitch
Passin' blunts like the three man weave
Hit my peace, shift the weed
and audits
We bored wit ch-ya
Quick to hit ya
With the war whip
Scripture mister Forbes list
A bigger figure from a poor nigga
A lot of y'all names I
the women they wanna dance and frolic
You was a winner well now the grands in pockets
Now you get rants and audits
We bored wit ch-ya
Quick to hit ya
live's a twenty-five to life bid
Parole reneged, I stroll the globe fugitive
CREAM is short, Cee Cipher Power stalk, plus the fiend talk
Three Gs
buildin'
Eh yo, real niggas get up, live niggas, what up?
We don't give a fiduck, you faggots'll get hit up
Q.B., what up? Y.O., what up?
Shaolin, get
We goin' platinum, nigga
We goin' platinum
Yeah, you got the Live Squad in this motherfucker
We got my nigga Treach from Naughty by Nature in this
Jamaica!
Just cause I'm guilty
We burn from Jamaica straight back to America
Don't live at all
Philly! Manhattan! Yo! Washington!
Let's get the party
"Where's the hits?" You ain't got none
You know Jay'll never put your album out without none
And, dog, you know how come
Labels are archaic, formulaic
"Where's the hits?" You ain't got none
You know Jay'll never put your album out without none
And, dog, you know how come
Labels are archaic, formulaic
A creature, monster, like the Loch Ness
I gets hotter by the tock, before I sizzle to death
I just tell the clock, "Gimme a sec"
In the middle of the war
only, that's just the code that I live by
Tell me I can't do it, it won't work, and I'ma still try
Try to hold me back and doubted me, they did it
black as the strap I'm using to hit the rival
Last album was great but I know this one is greater
I made it this far as a great tastemaker without
'em grown and then watch 'em lead
Let me proceed, bumpin' that that Californication, by the Red Hot
Fuck around and then hit 'em with a red dot
Y'all
little war! Murmur, murmur, murmur.
Why am I this way? make war!
Bang with me, ba-bang bang, ba-bang with me
No more playing games mane
Cause this
$5,000 a plate
No doubt, kid, I hit them niggas like a bid
The prosecutor, runnin' up in your crib
Do your dirt, I do my dirt all by my lonely
It's
Time"
"Lee Harvey Oswald was shot."
"I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by
by a
Person that I thought I trusted, where I live
It's a war at the cribs, walk with a strap
Myself 'cause I don't want nobody's son on my back
My
live and loud
We vibin' now I go wild and dive in the crowd
Never hit the ground they catch me and carry me around
Then put me right back on stage
no one
Swords swing like shogun, now who want it?
You see the truth, then act upon it
Or feel the fire's full view
Ain't a MC that I hit can pull
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