Lyrics:
all went away...
It all went away...
Cause the Uncle wouldn't pay..
pt 1 C1
It was a sad sad day, when mix, he went away
The 2 Live Crew would
fuera de capea el Dough
Rompí el instrumental
En Quisqueyano
Todito me lo tienen Que Mamá
Dame el grinder
Pal de príncipe de chocolate
Un salami 10 libra
shout-out to my man
MC Homicide and DJ Fatal!
Twin one and two my man Milk!
My man Fred Dawg, the O.G.B. crew!
Y'all know how we flow
And I'm a drop it like
Live by the gun die by the same shit you bust
Fly bitches with waves from DC to Cali
Rally and tally up my dough
For the grand finale
Grapevines
the mainstream?
Meek Mill leans forward into the
Glow of his computer screen
His expression unreadable behind a
Pair of gold sunglasses
It's April, well after two
the trunk
Plus the tape on your cassette
I'm from the crew called Jurassic
Stretch like elastic
Live and on plastic
Step and get that ass kicked
had
True, I've got more fans than the average man, but not enough loot to last me
To the end of the week, I live by the beat, like you live
clothes the fucking curtains
Wanna buy mom a crib wherever she wanna live
So she don't ever get got to take nobody bullshit again
Trying to take her
St"rted working to never need to beg for loose ch"nge,
C"sh will determine your r"nk, le"rning th"t from Wu-T"ng,
Crew spr"ying up two tr"ins, puffing up
Roll One I'd roll two
Come fuck with me I'll vibe with you
No need to trip no need to trip
Roll one I'd roll two
Come fuck with me I'll vibe with you
gotta live through it
I break through with my WB crew Q Ball packs
The steel having niggas running
Like fire drills
We sending fronters on permanent
echoed through the crowd
Six punks hit, two punks died
All causalities was applied to their side
Human lives has to pass just for talking much trash
We
Mafia way, Lavish way
We Kill niggas for fuckin up the mob
Facts
Live by code die by that bitch, RIP Kimbo
When you in the hood with that chicken
heaters on you
Spittin' back live rounders, with five pounders
If we meetin' on two, I put a beatin' on you
Your sound's tired buddy, that's why I'm
Ike Turner on your ass.
Aw fuck
You wanna get jumped chump punk?
Come press your luck by our whole crew we all stone you,
Own you, for a while you
This the type of jam that be getting no airplay
You asked for it buddy, here it comes
One two, watch out for the man in blue
Three four, I keep
[Intro]
One, two, Bone is coming for you
Three, four, better lock the doors
Five, six, better load your clips
Seven, eight, we're gonna test your
don't want to fuckk with my partners
Motion, commotion, what's your proposal
Uphold two-fold, the crew is disposal
Like utensil, false idental
I
don't want to fuckk with my partners
Motion, commotion, what's your proposal
Uphold two-fold, the crew is disposal
Like utensil, false idental
I
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
instrumental by: G.U.S. - “22ndCentury”
written by: R.PsYCh WiTtiD
HOOK
OOOOOHHH RAH
[RAH RAH RAH]
ITS DOOO
OR DIE [DIE DIE DIE]
WE ARE THE FEW
[I SAID]
WE
cre-atin the butter
Cliques get clipped like heavy bricks when I'm droppin'
I'm wreckin' nigga whole shit plus I make a profit
Wicked with this shout,
shaka's
Small head-build, means you the small-time nigga
With small thoughts, and small means, of gettin' small figures
By all means, expedite, "Live
[2Pac] Live in this muthafucker, Thug Pound Biotch
Kurupt, Daz, Makaveli, Idi, Kastro, Hussein
You know bitch the whole muthafuckin' clique.
We
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