Текст песни C-Bo f Big Syke - Til` My Casket Drops
C-Bo f Big Syke - Til` My Casket Drops слова песни
Verse One: C-BoI was born in hell without a pistolNow how can I survive with one live without a vest and 4-5?Runnin from the Task Fo` but smashin for my cashBankin corners, hop it then I blast on their assSee them piggies want me dead for sure or in the pendoin 10, instead of me in my Benz on some twinsSippin Hen, smokin indica bomband keep my pedal to the metal til I`m high and goneI know you rich niggas hate me, can I keep it real and feel this rap shit?Didn`t make me, got out the pen and flip the `97drop Mercedes, I`m the *?placenta?* of no loveTil the lord save me, straight thugs that`ll dump slugstil they fuckin grave, mass murder motherfuckers to the front pageWhen we hit, we empty clips til we get paidI`ve been a slave from my cradle to the graveNigga, fuck the world, I was raised in hellChorus: C-BoThat`s why we buck shit down and yell "Fuck the world!"I`d rather die here in hell then die doin life in jailBut take the shot with a Mac 12, order hits on the *?pack tailed?*>From the block to Wotts, we are thug niggas raised in hell*repeat*Verse Two: Big SykeI`m bailin thru the set wit a 40, smokin a cigaretteBlastin my radio, oldie tunes by The MarvalettesGangbangin vets on parole as I stroll thruThey rassle Gz like two craps and they strapped tooOh how I love these niggas but I hate em with a passionBut I ride for these motherfuckers, when I don`t even askThug fashion from head to toe, I let the world knowthat this is Thug Life, motherfucker, til I leave this hoSo as my knuckles drag the concrete, big homies hit the streetsTransgressions under pressure, preyin on the weakI sink like a fish, I wish upon a ghetto starIf the enemies come thru and ride on me they won`t get farBig homey got out, hold 22`s on a hangRunnin around, sweatin motherfuckers, talkin bout "Let`s throw them thangs"Bang, I hit him with a bat and heard his skull crackThen I got *?him the wind in the trach?* til he shattered, to get the MacChorusVerse Three: C-BoIt ain`t no love for bitch niggasas I dump slugs and pull the plug on you bitch niggasPick up my phone and have some thugs hit you trick niggaswit on gloves or low tommy guns on them stitch niggasHit niggas with H-K`s, split niggas with AK`s when we mash for the cashDoin a hundred, blastin buck shots off in that assTrue outlaws ready for war, souls will never dieThe same day we meet death, the same day we rideDumpin slugs with Tek 9`s, more bulletproofs my 4-5I just let em fly, screamin out "Bitch nigga die"We`s about be a killer nigga, look outsideTell me one reason why I should pray for eternal lifeBorn and taught in hell, with a gun store on every cornerBodyguard, bulletproof doors, it`s hard to be a gonerStrapped with heat, these West Coast streets of KillaforniaFrom day one, they have straps on em, cos we was raised in hellChorus