[Intro: Jim Jones]
R.I.P Big
We some niggas that's gonna make you proud of this game
Smell me? (Jones, Capo)
Cash Money (Santana)
Dipset (Lil Weezy)
Let's Ride
Cause real g's know the feeling (It's Murda)
It's hard body, no remorse for the killing (Watch It)
Cause real g's know the feeling (It's Murda)
It's hard body, no remorse for the killing (Weezy)
[Verse 1: Lil Wayne]
Mad trees and bitches in dungarees
The city under seas, kitchen 100 degrees
I love that summer breeze, I'll stand in it until it freeze
I'm from another breed, them sss, southern g's
I sip phemetrazine, I lean, I stand tall
I'm mean, I'm mad raw, I'm coming like fastball
Steee-rike, Yup, so get it right
Nigga, one of my sniplets'll end your whole life
You ain't nothing but a riblet to a nigga with a knife
And a fork, I'm a pig myself, I eat pork
So be smart and play your own part
If you don't love yourself, I'll make you see your own heart
And we don't like the narcs, stay away from the cell
Hey, I'mma shoot it out if I'm facing the L
Yea, so tell your girl to come and make me rich
Weezy Baby nigga, 9 to 5, 10 to 6
[Hook: Juelz Santana]
All night, I can't sleep, I toss and turn
Got my hand on my pistol, when will these motherfuckers learn?
(Watch it) I ain't going out without a fight
I'm with whatever and I ain't going out without a fight
I'm with whatever and I ain't going out without a fight
I'm with whatever, It'd be your life before my life
At night, I can't sleep, I toss and turn
Got my hand on my pistol, when will these motherfuckers learn?
[Verse 2: Juelz Santana]
It's showdown time, throwdown time
Same d-off, four pound time
Clack Clack, go get yours, I'll go get mine
Check it man, I'm wit whatever
Goodness gracious the paper
Where the cash at? Where the stash at?
I'll blow that ass back for fronting on a nigga like me
You got nothing on a nigga like me, you'll see
I'm on the grind from sun up to sun down
If I'm lying, may lightning come down and strike me right now
I'll turn a dollar to a twenty to a fifty to a hundred
Keep it coming til I'm full on my stomach
I'm stuck in my ways, I'm stuck puffing my haze
Hand on my pistol, front of it sprays
I'm stuck living the life of a ghetto nigga
Trying to get rid of the life, alright?
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Notorious B.I.G]
As I grab the Glock, put it to your head piece
One in the chamber, the safety is off -released
Straight at your dome holmes, I wanna see cabbage
Biggie Smalls the savage
Doin your brain cells much damage
Teflon is the material, for the imperial
Mic gribber, girl stripper, the Henny sipper
I drop lyrics on and off like a light switch
With her grab the right bitch and make her drop with you
45's Glocks and Tec's are expected when I wreck shit,
respect is collected - so check it!
I got techniques dripping out my butt cheeks
Sleep on my stomach so I don't fuck up my sheets
My shit is deep, deeper than my grave G
I'm ready to die, and nobody can save me
Fuck the world, fuck my Moms and my girl
My life is played out like a Jerry curl -
I'm ready to die
compositores: JOHN CARPENTER, DWAYNE CARTER, LARON JAMES, JOSEPH A JONES, CHRISTOPHER WALLACE
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