Lyrics:
up shop and try to move somethin
And I'm talkin about kilo's and pounds
Fuck a desert eagle
I got shit that spit over 300 rounds
Can tell by
of smack,
Ima hustle until I got more diesel than shaq.
(Chorus x2)
Apollo:
everybody listening so I put somethin in they ear,
They think p miller just
Got you lookin' lil' somethin' like Mary J. Blige
Don't mind my eyes
They bloodshot
From smokin' bout 4 bags of weed in the parking lot
So wassup bitch,
a nigga ho if I want
I feel like just getting it how I live
I feel like respect my mind lemme feel how I feel
Hook
B.G.:
You fuck with Lil' Turk, you
of people inspired by rappers
Who do give a shit about the game we livin' in
Shit is ridiculous I have to say this
It should be common sense, I hope these
yo (jump) yo (jump)
(first family) for the two (oh) oh (oh)
Follow instructions! crews, listen!
Who, is it? move (bounce!)
First family move
back when I shine on my shine, two shows follow behind.
It's a fucked up vehicle. Switchin' my lines.
Hotel asks a nigga: "Could I share my dimes".
and WB
Who 'Yes Massa' on TV
What ever happened to Wheezy? The Red Fox's?
Never got Emmy's but were real to me
Let's hear it
Two for the spooks who do
Just know you gonna be great like you always been destined
Keep me by your side you'll never need no protection
A little girl is waking up this
able to control this?
I know some fok' that live by the levee
That keep on telling me they heard the explosions
Same shit happened back in Hurricane
in sync?
Out looking for the camera crews
Sell my soul for a second on the evening news
Am I in sync?
Live 'til the bubble pops
Hold my breath
on my shit I think her name was Lita
Member I told u tht lil bitch was a eata
Just by the way she done walked like a diva
Scoop up ur bitch fucked tht
Mic check, 1 2
I'm just going to get right to it
Luda!
Ain't nobody fuckin' with me when it come to getting lyrical
Murdering the rapper
Tell me you gon' die for me (you gon' die)
Tell me you gon' die by what you live for (live for)
Tell me you gon' ride for me (tell me you gon' ride for
sound of this, something's comin'
You can picture like a photograph, envision the image
Of one-two-fifth street and Lenox
The old folks their souls
everywhere we go
Haters everywhere we go, where we go
Haters goin down for the count (ONE) lookin at the ground (TWO)
I think you're a hater, I think you're
Mafia way, Lavish way
We Kill niggas for fuckin up the mob
Facts
Live by code die by that bitch, RIP Kimbo
When you in the hood with that chicken
No man should live life dreamin’ without execution
Excellence invades souls to do this
Hard work, should not elude us
Instead become congruent
I got by
Creflo pray Mike Vick payed bobby brown stray Whitney lost weight
Kimbo Slice on the pad when I write
That Mayweather money looking funny in
but somehow I got by.
Creflo prayed, Mike Vick payed,
Bobby Brown strayed, Whitney lost weight.
Kimbo Slice on da pad when I write,
Dat may why
the truth in a song
So bdp, short for boogie down productions
Made a little noise 'cause the
Crew was sayin' somethin'
People have the nerve to take
Me for
the way to live and behave and coexist[01:45.07]But most forget the "co" part[01:46.92]I sit back and listen to first albums like So Hard by Lil
album's hot and your album's not
I done been getting movie deals
I done been getting paid like Vinzel
I done been by ?
And five double o's
And 1 2
what?)
They gon' keep it cool 'cause we'll rat them niggas
Huh, livin' to die, nigga we dyin' to live (dyin' to live)
Had to sacrifice my life just for
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