Lyrics:
tierra
Yungqil I'm chilling airpods and a sweater
Baby he a lame I know you could do better
Might show her this life for one night I'ma let her
She gon
blows a smirk cross the monarchs
Where we at a sunburn turns into skin cancer
An undying faith covered up by non-answers
We strive for perfection, but
hustle baby
Darling this is it (Woo)
Witness it, no victim lie watch the bullets whizz by
Pray the lead don’t hit
Pray you aint prey
For the dogs
over
EDI here take this gun nigga it's over
I piss cold blood
Shit hot liquor out my liver
Smoke like a tail pipe
And write when I'm bitter
All my life
Look at the dope line tonight, just doin' alright
For the nugs
Why y'all got paper, I got paper so let's find some ass to jug
This struggle for power
a battle, but you ain't ready for war
This shit is complicated, that's why you mark niggaz hate it
Scared to roll the dice, because you punks can't fade it
up like a candle its Chilla
And Filla wit dat shit that you can handle nigga
[Verse 4]
My life is straight fucked up, my mind is stuck on psychotic
up like a candle its Chilla
And Filla wit dat shit that you can handle nigga
[Verse 4]
My life is straight fucked up, my mind is stuck on psychotic
told me that he didn't pay dues
you snooze and lose
so what I'd do is make this man take a bath in his shoes
and it was all on the news
see I knew that
Skieeeeeee
God Forgive me for jacking this beat
It's like when that Holy Spirit get up in me I be loose
Don't get me started (Hehe!)
King Skie
are you
Once I get that bag boy you know we through
You been hating acting like I never knew
But you still tune in, my life is exclusive
I could fuck
The real mob boss
You don't rival a boss and look for boats
You rival a boss by the look of it
Yo August, thank you so much
I just told you who I
not make 23
Fo' you ever try to be like me
Rather you be 23
Michael Jordan
Cuz my life is for the dangerous and deep
I get blamed for a lot of pain
for the streets and my R.I.P's?
(Oh, and I like it)
'Cause they woulda done the same for me
Why do I embrace the face that sets the mob free?
'Cause
nothin' stops my chips
I boss play you with this, then twist you lame tricks
Holler if you understand my plan, ladies
Fuck havin' babies by them shady
We are leaders
This is Tecca N9na in your arena
We saw no reason
Yea
Start shit
For no reason, mosh pit
For no reason, our shit
For no
annihilate that nigga
'cause like a lamb I was sacrificed for this verbal murder religion
Imprisioned by my hunger to succeed
By the heart I be driven
No
holdin it down to my niggas back home[01:21.15]Do this for the ones that's locked up and that's gone ( bros)[01:23.05]I'm feeling some pain that's the shit
own way
In expressing this
So I had to air it out
On all my melodies
Some Dey only
Try to pour sand sand
For my garri
Don't need new loves
But my MOB's
Black cotton
Black cotton
Black cotton, a symbol for unrewarded struggle
Time for a little gospel tale
Ghetto gospel that is, listen
Rotten
Intro:
Alright
This is yo everyday boppin bitch
And I'm lookin for the niggas wit the drop top
Candy painted hittin the switch
So here's a blast for
1999 (Yeah)
TLC, M-O-B (And Goodie Mob)
The synergy of ghetto sounds for the Y-2-G
(What'cha wanna do with it?)
What it is, what it ain't
(What?)
[Virtual Vicky]
Now TLC will challenge Goodie Mob
To a game of ghetto laser tag
When they say: "What it is."
You scream: "What it ain't."
the mob
''cause you dead in the fog
And that's yo' head by the log
I can smell it in the air
I can tell when it's there
This is hell
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