Текст песни Lost Boyz f Street Connect, Izzy Dead an - Only Live Once
Lost Boyz f Street Connect, Izzy Dead an - Only Live Once слова песни
(Cheeks)These mothafuckas made it this wayI show `em mine????? ???? ????Official Queens crack stars gettin moneyRollin trees in the backwoodsTimberlands, ???, black hoodsThe territories rugged, certain bimbos love itI fuck wit cats ???Keep my Timbo`s coveredWe ride around in the streets, kid we duckin knicksMoney power wit some game, kid we fuckin chicksThe hard times help me sharpen upWe be in Watts, but still be sparkin upLove it when the day darken upMy life is like a movie, big guns and booze play a partI came through to display an artYo, fuck you jealous niggasI take care a fam and I lay lowI`m livin kid, I got the money plus the yayoAnd hold a heat up on the seat because it`s gettin wickedYou get yo dough, I get my doughLet`s blow so we can kick it(Hook - Mr. Hezekiah) 2x You only live once so let`s rideLet`s take it to the topThis one crew you can`t stop(Street Connect)Yo is you mothafuckas out a yo mind?We them niggas that be holdin it downHalf of the reason you liveOther fifty percent of the reason you frownBehind the back you pop shitBut when we be wavin them thangs you innocentCause we in this bitch, Raw DogsIs you askin for a New York City war call?We keep it gritty for all a y`allBut some you niggas act like you goin through menopauseAnd that`s the second we send `em to morguesSlay `em down, get in them drawersBeen put on, what you tellin me for?Look at `em beggin for moreEither they yellin or givin applausePicture livin laws while we got x-cons on the dance floorGoody niggas playin the wallAnd ??? bitches rockin hoodies wit razors inside the sports braWe told y`all but ya wasn`t tryna listen to us(Hook)(Izzy Dead)Ever since the day I was born my lifestyle been realBloody stories on blank paper is what my pen spillMy men still, sellin coke, cooked up and powdered outIn a big body smoked out, shit is clouded outWe official crack stars, bury bodies in back yardsYou neva touch nothinSayin you blast niggas and clap carsI get a back massage from a bad EuropeanAnd switch my bird every seasonAnd I`m rollin up my treasonBut my question is, give me one reason to let you liveBut you good at talkin ya way out a shit, I be you isSo I sex ya wiz, kill you, and leave ya wife left wit kidsGhetto black widowWhat nigga, my mac glittoAttack ya hittoIt`s like pimp talk wit a limp walkAnd crazy dough is what I`m in forSomethin you bent off, but couldn`t touchScream you got guns but wouldn`t bustNever fuck wit niggas out a my circle I don`t trust(Hook)