Faces of Death

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Spice 1

Robert L. Green, Jr., better known by his stage name Spice 1, is an American rapper born in Corsicana, Texas. He has consistently been releasing solo and group albums since 1992. Spice 1 was ranked number 56 in The Source magazine's Top 115 Hip-Hop Artists from 1988–2003. His self-titled debut was also listed in The Source's 100 Best Rap Albums. more »

Year:

1995

4:30

96 Views

Playlists:

#1

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Ay bwoy, ay, this is this is 

187, the 187, the (chill man) 187 
The 187, the 187, the 187 (187) 
The 187, the 187, the bloaw! 
(jump up in the house man, chill man) 
187, the 187, (faces of death man) the 187 
The 187, the 187, the 187 
(what you know about faces of death man?) 
The 187, the bloaw! 

(Born to kill), reign shit goes on right here, reign shit player 
Chill man, chill, walk about, walk about the (casket) 
Serious motherfucker balls, spit my dime, f*ck the sidewalk man 
James Bridge just blowin down motherfuckin' train man 
(Casket), real type shit man, 
Huh, huh, yeah man (silence of a dead man body) 
Watch them die over the drug and the white bitch man, the white bandit 
Watch them die over the Cocaine faces of death man 
In the ghetto, projects what ever you want to call it 
We all the same man, we all in the same shit (S-P-I-see-E) word-a 
We say the 187, the 187 (jealousy got me strapped) callin the murder 
The 187, the 187 is in the fire (nigga) 

(East Bay Gangsta) East Bay Gangsta man, kill a rat 
Kick that gangsta shit man word up (crazy) 
Motherfuckin' killer, in this 

Me say the 187, the 187, the 187 
The 187, the 187, the 187 
The 187, the 187, the 187 
The 187, the 187, the 187, the bloaw! 

Murder from the mind of a sick nigga 
Thinkin' bodies, dirty money, bloody Cocaine and Tech clips 
I play with pistol grips, dead niggas and lolly tips 
Suicidal sick shit, a psychopathic lunatic 
Caught up in murder man, dirty up in this dead fool 
Faces of Death, hog my dreams out of drains fools 
Pullin' pistols, tellin' niggas to get the f*ck back 
I'm regulatin shit, there's money up on my dope track 
See I'm a soldier in this game, ain't nothin' strange 
Got a nigga lyin' on the floor with half of his fuckin' brains 
Murder and crazy it's just a part of the game 
Niggas won't kill ya, just don't f*ck with their Caine 
Mack 10 silencer all ya heard was screams (ah!) 
All I seen was the gleams from the Infra-Red beams 
Another motherfuckin' walk-by in your hood 
Better pack two clips up on your hips and it's all good 
That nigga Death, he got more faces than a motherfucker 
So don't be shocked if you're naked, bleedin' in your gutter, niggas 

Ay bwoy, ay this is in this mother 

Faces of Death is an way gone past 
F*ck up all of your hoes, all up in your bed, in your bed 
Faces of Death is an way gone 
F*ck all of your hoes, all in your bed, 
This is in your bed, in this 
Faces of Death away, 
F*ck up all your hoes all in your bed, in your bed 
Faces of Death is an way gone (all right) 
F*ck up all your hoes in your bed 
(Twilight Zone to 1999 yet, Spice 1) 
Don't you ever in your bed
East Bay Gangsta, gangsta hoe, ooh 
(well all right, can you hang?) 

Can you motherfuckers hang, 
I mean slang them thangs as they go? 
Well, all right, hoe, hoe, hoe, well I'm wrong 
Say no, sing a sad song ohh, 'cause a, 
Cause a hoe's are gon' lay on, we all gon' hash one day 
Well all right on, uh sayer, sprayer, East Bay, well on Willie 
Mother pimp in the game, 187 faculty thang hey, well all right 
Uh, BOSKO whats up nigga, where that chicken at? 
Where that chicken at nigga, whats up Spice? 
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

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