Текст песни Trick Daddy - Gangsta Livin`
Trick Daddy - Gangsta Livin` слова песни
I know `Pac woulda loved this one here[Chorus: Trick Daddy]This gangsta livin, weavin dope dealin, oh how it`s changedIt`s gettin strange, and dangerous, but that`s the way shit goes[Trick Daddy]This nigga needs no introductionsI`m on this book, and I`m stuck, I`m really the wrong one to fuck witSee T-Double known for startin problems butK-cutter be the problem solver, if Isell you a book nigga stick itCause for every you check you slippin they can call me FlipperI only I missed a few niggaz (uh-huh)But he lost a couple more vis-a kidney and his liverHad to tell him mind me a niggaI was like uh-huh, click click, c`mere, don`t run niggaAll I wanna know isWhere yo` connect, where the sack, where the money where the blow isI heard papi got them freightersNow either he gon`, give `em to me, or a nigga gon` take `emThe dope game`s just too overratedAnd to tell y`all the truth a lot of y`all ain`t gon` make itDone went from crack slingers to R&B singersBefore the mic`s on, you was already singinIt`s just a song was a big hitHe named me and his bitch on the remix (sing)[Chorus] - 2X[Trick Daddy]And to hell with bein a man about itShit they got fo` niggaz and one gun, fuck bein 21Somebody better tell `emAnd put him up on {?} somebody fuck around and kill himYou see cause snitches get stitchesAnd there ain`t that much of a difference between tellin and snitchinAnd I ain`t gon` keep on talkin to you niggazI`m gon` walk right up to you niggaz and go off on you niggazAnd I ain`t leavin no witnessesAnd don`t get drunk and confess to none of y`all missesSee I know how to control my HennessyI speak no ingles, play crazy like them DominicansSee cause poppa was a rolling stoneHe said, son get your gun, it`s a war and it`s onSo y`all go on and bob your head to the songThrow up the 4`s for the niggaz, that`s dead and gone[Chorus] - 2X[Trick Daddy]I`m tired of smokin `bama-ass weedNiggaz out there sellin backyard boogies full o` stems and seedsThey whoopin the rocks and we compressin the cokeThey makin it hard for them {?} to smokeI went to jail tryin to get high; nigga told meto go to hell went and called him, told him come get me outSo our father, who art in heavenIt must be the devil cause somethin wrong with these niggazNope - and crazy ain`t the wordThey say the stupid shit like Trick why don`t you front a nigga a birdFo` what, so you can smoke it up?Impress hoes, buy clothes, and make a nigga come fuck you up?The game hard on a playerYou coulda started with a block and now workin just for quarter fareWith all the cards I sold the hoes left me all by myselfAnd the game don`t even care![Chorus] - 2X