Lyrics:
when I talk
But they all mad talk, one hand on my Glock
Everybody wanna vibe until the fun stop
12 Swing by, know the pain don't stop
Took my brother now
pops and moms
Tell em Im a good kid
Catholic raised
Knowin i went to public school
And sweared and got blazed
Even weed when i got a whole two
And that
Yeah woah
Yeah hey
Yeah woah
Yeah hey
Yeah woah
Alright alright alright alright
Let's get it
Two seater I'm riding with the crew
Can't nobody tell
I live it, What I make I flip it
Money stand tall as Roy Hibbert hater forget it
Young Money!
Yea, where I from nigga even killas get killed
Just
death do you fuckin' part
Do you understand to live, to lie by him
Is to share your soul, Lord knows, you gone die by him
I know you heard gun stories
I find out he got a next Mrs
What you think all the goons is for
Two by the door a few more out in New York
And I feel 'em curry chicken, I'm all
loving my style (She love it)
I got a tooly with me with a silencer on it so it don't make a sound (Shhh)
Pew she loving the crew
I need a crib by the lake
at the Mariott, meet us at, 12:02
N.O.R.E., Flex and the Punisher crew
We gonna do it for the ghetto, and the families too
Cause if I had friends, I wouldn't
thug musik
All that's loose leaf my big game
Scrow foul lives snake eyes
Ready with steel at any given time
I'm a kill stone hearted nigga
existent
It took way too long for time to come and fix this
Sometimes I wish you were here by my side
Late nights on my rooftop gazing up at the sky
Looking
international think rational
The 12th street crew move back when we come through
I think the whole world's going insane
I fill my brain up with Dainy, and drink
houses with the chandelier
Me and my crew, mad cans of beer
It's copin', live vibe, still eyes open, it's clear
Presidential suites at The Tangier
'round my town
You might get killed (Better watch for 12)
I'm out my mind, yeah
I'm high above the rim (I'm out my mind)
You cop it live, boy, I got it all
it nigga, for real
[Hook] X 2
[Snoop Dogg]
They live on the streets, and they hustle for fame
Some claim twenty crip but most
of disaster, super rhyme maker
Grimy by nature, database maker
Play em out like Sega, Saturn
Blow your blocks in patterns for about nine acres
Testes, crew
hitman I want you dead ya crew dead
If I go in my bag like you did blllllllat!
I'll air this bitch out and
That's on my two kids
Truth is, this not gon' go
live in California, drive a drop top
Roll by the beach, look at the freaks
jump in my car, I do it every week
DJ's who know call me Mister Short
All
want a bite of this, everything is cool
You heard what I would do, and the Triple 6 whole fuckin crew
Nigga, live by your rep but I ain't takin shit
gotta roll fifty to the club,
Blood, who d'you think your foolin' with that fake crew love.
The streets don't cater for no long term plan,
These
Mango! Bitch
They say they wanna live life
Like some young rich niggas
Let's show these niggas what
The fuck goin' on
Say you wanna live like
Hoe, this the groovy life. (groovy life)
Fuck ‘em by two tonight. (two tonight)
I got the hoes,
Like I’m Dolemite (Dolemite, Dolemite)
It’s gon’ be
[Cocking of a gun, followed by gunshot repeated throughout.]
Bone thugs-n-harmony. I know you niggas been waitin' for this for a
long time. Well, here it
the streets, got those I want the charts now
What I rap I live it, What I make I flip it
Money stand tall as Roy Hibbert hater forget it
Young Money!
Yea,
car
That made you easy to follow to Denver, Colorado
Birds you had, 12 now you got a l
Crack babies born in the hospitals cryin
Drive-by shootings can't
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