Intro/Chorus: The Lox
|
|
Can I live til my last day
|
Hittin honies that be na-sty
|
Gettin money in the fast way
|
And I only care halfway
|
But I still can't let you pass me
|
|
[The Lox]
|
Yo what's beef to you, three niggaz with hoodies and bats
|
That ain't shit compared to one small cat with gats
|
When we came here we cut off all kind circulation
|
Breathin, eatin, the whole situation
|
When we do our shit we do our shit for real
|
While you take your money for your deal and make your own beats
|
Compose your own sheets, that's aight but chill
|
I'ma spend that mil and cop only hot shit
|
Rock top shit you know how The Lox get
|
Then you can see me flyin in the Bentley cockpit
|
Lox and B-I, hold our grica down for years
|
Gang not, but we been had our black tears
|
Niggaz under the stairs only understand what we got
|
Underground, all above must get shot
|
You couldn't book me Dano, see Luciano put the burners
|
to all y'all, what nigga bring it I'm callin y'all
|
|
You already know what it's about when I run up in your house
|
Put the gun up in your mouth and get the money out the couch
|
Hearin you out is senseless, perhaps for instance
|
I give this faggot a french kiss
|
Black gloves, no prints, dark tints
|
Word on the street they ain't heard from him since
|
You know about life after kicked the kid in
|
Since me and my mi-dan can flip seven gri-dams
|
Scri-dam the flow is forbidd-en
|
Either you ridin or you dyin cause we swingin iron
|
Lox and Poppa, turning niggaz into Jim Hoffa
|
Who gon stop us, it's your last joint double copper
|
You gettin money or your runnin from the Feds
|
Ain't nothin over here but sixteen and one in the head
|
And I solemnly swear
|
That all y'all niggaz out there got a problem this year
|
|
Chorus: repeat 2X
|
|
[The Lox]
|
Before you think of keepin me down, heatin me down
|
The flow like water get deepe and you drown
|
with no soul, many niggaz roll with no dough
|
Even the small Dunn got a little black hole
|
Your destiny is somethin you can never figure out
|
Niggaz is never happy til there's blood up in your mouth
|
There's a lot of killers, but who the hell are you to play in this?
|
A lot are dead, how the hell you take the pain?
|
Live with it got money you better get with it
|
My man had the thug in him did his bid with it
|
Get married to the game but never have a kid with it
|
Advice from the wise, slice the pies
|
Too many schemes divides, when dreams collide
|
Teams provide, war for the street to absorb
|
Stashed in the ceiling and you slept on the floor
|
Only a blind dove'll fall in love with a whore
|
|
[Notorious B.I.G.]
|
Uhh, uhh, uhh
|
Who the fuck wanna squeeze?
|
My Desert Ease make MC's freeze
|
You wakin up in cold sweats, they just dreams
|
You still apoligizin, analyzin, my size and your size and
|
realizin, a fist fight would be asinine
|
You just pop wines I must pop nines
|
Genuine steel piece, nozzle in your grill piece
|
You're shook up, two bricks, every cook up
|
We can hook up, all I see is the future
|
Disrespect, I shoot ya
|
By the way, them bricks, get flipped weekly
|
Sold by soldiers that mix weed with the leak leak
|
Die for a dollar nigga, life ain't sweet
|
Play for keeps wet shirts with experts on the creep
|
I be the mob fiance, about to marry it
|
Illegal transactions in Farragut with Arabics
|
Why not, they fit twelve up in the bedroom
|
Imagine what they stash is like, make you a classic like
|
my first LP, beef with me is unhealthy
|
Fuck around and get an ul-cer, loose your pulse or
|
collapsed lung, look how many gats I brung
|
For them homos, still doin promos
|
Break both your legs you're movin slow-mo, got shined to glow mo'
|
Nine hundred and ninety six grams, you need for mo'
|
|
Chorus: repeat til fade
|
|
-----------------
|
Last Day (feat. The Lox)
|
Notorious B.I.G |