Lyrics:
baby, 2 Live is here!
[Marquis] Smokin' blunts by the pack, drunk off 'gnac
Watchin' my ones stack, I got it like that
Bitches know
group
Come through with that live crew
Birds chirpin', cop that Birkin
Boo, yo, I supplied you
Liable to be in Beirut, no Beirut, this debut
Slick,
you'll die dancin'
Dark, gliding shapes that violate every law of nature
Buy 'em or die a thousand deaths
2 Live Crew, 2 Live Crew
Boyz with da bass, boyz
I use that
Machete to Butch Cassidy by the way
His two faggot ass sons' names
Is Shane and Cassidy bang! That's blasphemy
That's the main catastrophe
Until mid-afternoon in the daylight
He often
Appears exhausted and physically drained
Of his three-year-old
Son, who still lives in Philly
He admit's that
#2: It could be carried by an African swallow!
GUARD #1: Oh, yeah, an African swallow maybe, but not a European
swallow, that's my point.
GUARD #2
fucking limits
Shout out to Uncle Luke
Shout out my bitches too
We the 2 Live Crew
Two for me, two for you (woo)
Feed them bitches carrots
Fuck 'em
Like, make the name up for the crew
Might call it Witter Pop! (Naw, nigga that's wack)
Yeah you right, yo did you find a studio?
(Yeah I came across two
couple yards, couple cars, that's me
Two sixteen out here, murking shows
No Akademics now, I wear Dench clothes
Had a Punto, now I cop Lambos
Hard work
know that I
Live and die for the things I do slang
I use breakin' down mics and destroyin' crews.
1-2-1-2 uh
1-2-1-2 mic check 1-2-1-2
1-2-1-2
(You're as cold as ice)
I still got that real world charm, nigga
Be alarmed
Body armor on, warmer in my palm (NYC)
Where you get the storm before the calm
hitman I want you dead ya crew dead
If I go in my bag like you did blllllllat!
I'll air this bitch out and
That's on my two kids
Truth is, this not gon' go
Check it out y'all
Ch-ch-check it out y'all
Two, two Live Crew
Two Li, two Li, two Li, two Live Crew
Fresh, fresh, fresh Kid Ice
Tre-treach Dee
I'm goin out baby uzi, style
Catchin bodies like I hit skins
The hostile juvenile, fuck what you heard
More four-five, motherfucker die
My crew is
they could be so greasy
My crew here my drink cold my life so illegal
My bitch turnt my fists work my glock forever reloaded we here
Heard these niggas
body, work your body work
Let me see you move your body yeah
Move to the beat (yeah)
[Verse 2]
LAPRECE NOIR LYRICS
Im moving my body they be like damn
enemies that's RIP only tactic
But if by chance we kill each other our souls'll go at it
See I'm doggin' the triple six it's death bt the sword
I told satan
to stay
My crew I'm believing so fuck it anyway
I got my mob from the Rule, that live by the cruel
And my crew from Courtland Ave. always say they'll set
been waitin' too long (I've been waitin') (Loud Luxury)
Hell nah, I want that crew love (Mr. Worldwide)
Body on my, losin' all my innocence, yeah
crew
So what you do, is back up if you work for Bush
Cause all the Presidential prison pushin politicians
gotta get MUSHED, gimme back my land you
down, told him that I'm gettin' wild
Five, four, three, two, I'm starting now, watch me
Work it, work it down to the ground
Work it, work it down
His crew they doing what they do
Follow orders killem all entire house and families 2
Rise 2 power like a king
Rain of terror in the spring
Weathers
a couple hundreds layin' on the counter
I don't know where that came from
I got artwork from hard work, yardworkers for yard work
Don't look under
weight in the cooter, ten plates to soup ya
One twos we oughta cruise right by the state troopers
When I'm drinkin' Cristal, start thinkin' 'bout Al
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