(feat. Denise Weeks)
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[Verse 1: Jim Jones]
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There was no love for us (nope)
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So we did what we did just to make a buck played around we're fucking nuts (crazy)
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Hope them ho's puckerup tryna get them to slide
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Thats on our mind getting high all the time (we tryna fuck!)
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We hustle hard, hope the fiends buy all the dimes
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So we can scoop up and hit the party and scoop a bitch (get twisted)
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You know the drill homie
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Play the rules and play the field but don't get killed homie (stay alive)
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So where's the better days?
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The have to get up days to cheff up yay just to get us paid (we hustle hard)
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You see never it fails most of my homies either dead or jail (gone)
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Don't fuck with phonies cause they get you killed (ah ah)
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My testimony's every bitter real (thats right)
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Dont run up on me cause I'm gripping steel (bang bang)
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I'm kinda nervous and I'm quick on the blast
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due to the murders that I witnessed in town
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[Chorus: Denise Weeks]
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Livin the life with a rider seems
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it's the only thing that I'm gonna run to
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Thats when you light and get high with me
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Look what the ghetto's did to me (Baby)
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And when you finish running the streets
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I'll be the only one that you gonna run to
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Just getting paper and ducking police
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Look what the ghetto did to me (uh)(yeah yeah)
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[Verse 2: Jim Jones]
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There was no peace in sight (nope)
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It was sleepless night (yup)
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Hustling yay breaking day to see the light (money man)
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Street squalie you see polices lights (squalie)
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As I polie on this decent price
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Got a cuses that want some pies 23 a slice
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Transactions by the building, uptown Harlem world, Manhattan where we kill them (Taz)
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Plus my project way of thinking spending most my days drinking
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It's like I'm on my way to sixton (lock in)
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But we do what we do thats survival
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And we move how we move thats through the rivals (fuck them enemies)
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It's been said we living suicidal, it's like rush at eleven placing bucks on your bet
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Do your thang slang cane and get your bucks on your steps (watch)
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Watch ya ass young man they want you under arrest (thats them pigs)
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And you ain't know, they getting stripes for that
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They have you in your cell man serving life for that
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[Chorus]
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[Verse 3: Jim Jones]
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Now for my project corners, go hard for warrants (fuck'em)
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Every night I make it, I pray to God for goners (I pray to God)
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We pour liquor on floors
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That's for the soldiers that we lost in the mist of this war (RIP Life)
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For the ones on the grind and front line they got called by po nine
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And now they prisoners of war
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They fight for appeal or a bill or a ball
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Cause they slipped and got nailed for a sale of a rob (Zeek you know wassup)
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Two shouts for O.B.C.C six main house of fame
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When you come home come and see me
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Stay cool I lay the rules on ya
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Play the fool and they will move on ya
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Young niggaz that keep them tools on ya
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They quick to let them blickas blast (bang bang)
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So crazy the way we get this cash (How we livin?)
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Real hot up on these murderous blocks (blaatat blaatat)
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Broad day bang bang I know you heard all them shots
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[Outro: Denise Weeks]
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Livin the life with a rider seems it's the only thing that I'm gonna run to
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That's when you light and get high with me
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Look what the ghetto's did to me (baby)
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And when you finish runnin the streets
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I'll be the only one that you gonna run to
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Just getting paper and ducking police
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Look what the ghetto did to me (yeah)
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Look what the ghetto did to me
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Look what the ghetto did to me
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Look what the ghetto did to me (eh eh ehhh)
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Look what the ghetto did to me
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Look what the ghetto did to me
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Look what the ghetto did to me (eh eh ehhh)
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Livin Life As a Rider
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| Jim Jones |
