TestoStreet Life

Mobb Deep

Ultima modifica il: 4 giugno 2021
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NYC, word up Verse 1: Prodigy, A.C.D. M-O-B-B D-E-E-P, A.C.D. burn sometin Let′s get lifted, Queens is you wit me Niggas' shifty, I turn around, a kid tried to hit me I back him down wit the 50-50 It had to been the thug in me, ya tunnel bang and come and get me The first five hundred bitches free He kid with the god jewel and let all my gods come thru Live niggas on this side of the bar, you get smacked, boo And fucked too, shit on me? Well then, fuck you Gone wit your high class ass if you want to Outta state you be suckin me off and breakin off Weed bitch stinks of stallion but my dick went soft My Mobb got in lock wit Masterlock, het getcha locks picked Run up in your spot, mask-n-glove shit Queens niggas involved with thug shit, you get lumpded Crank, we in the bathroom thumpin To the three-time losers, alcohol abusers Big money spenders and the Ebineezer Scroogers Thugs holdin fort wit the sixteen shot Rugers The CREAM that I redeem will bring a Lex and Landcruiser Dominant chapter, assassinin′ the obsolete And my Mobb comes Deep to put the wind beneath your feet My heart's harder than concrete, and nervous streets Be walked offbeat but still thugs carry heats I get deeper than skin, paragraphs from within Dear lord, my life is trife, please forgive for me sins My kin stay my kin, ain't no room for extra friends One love to my thugs up north in the pens Be a prophet to raise, beat my speech on stage Nemesis renegade, breakin down barricades These days are gettin rough, ′nother brother handcuffed Fallen victim to the gameis like style′s corrupt Chorus: My crime niggas livin - street life Them Queen niggas livin - street life My drug niggas livin - street life My street niggas livin - street life You thug niggas livin - street life NYC livin - street life My Mobb niggas livin - street life What? Verse 2: Havoc, A.C.D. For every rhyme I write, reality bites My clique keeps shit rolled too tight Regulate and know the rule I gets some insight plus info, do stickers with my kickos My .44 will burn that ass like goin raw with nymphos So protect your lifestyle, rock your vest Or get your teflon put to the motherfuckin test State pen put on points, son you know Stay on the low, got the back, oh-no-no When I'm on a dough blow, got ta guard you now Kid, you wanna get foul, so now I gotta put that ass back on profile Change your character, you ain′t got stamina Nigga get that dough, I ain't mad at′cha The Infamous handle business, gonna make mines Forever, son, kid you heard it thru the grapevine To my royal thug commitees and outlaws that live the life of Frank Nitty The big city mobster, the C-to-D? has made the God unholy, skies forever watch me The prophecy, another chapter, there's no stoppin me Propagation, my life story is far from fiction Cos at one time, the .44 bullets took the world, bring sparks and friction I anaylse this ′erb so I roll with trife characters The hardest for the world to cap, and shiner like a Full carat diamond with perfect designin Philly's and 9 mili's and Coupe De Villey′s forever reclinin To the shoot, physicals in this paradox The world is hot and my plot is to receive grands and yachts Until then I be a trife individual, dwellin in these days Scorch from the deeez plus the sun′s rays Dead President dreams and million dollar schemes Killer Queens, the land of CREAM fiends A.C.D. the world terrorist Stainless Rugers for the intruders and my cipher's Infamous Thru New York and worldwide, we penetrate your inside *? Diamond did?* drama, son, and 9 clips so prepare fro heaven′s ride Chorus: A.C.D. livin - street life My ice niggas livin - street life Them jewel rockin niggas livin - street life Them crack niggas livin - street life Them coke-sellin niggas livin - street life Word, NYC livin - street life My man L.E.S. livin - street life The whole Queensbridge livin - street life Word up son, we're livin - street life KnowI′msayin? Word up, A.C.D., Mobb Deep in the motherfuckin... Yo yo, uhhh Hold me down, son (No doubt, son) Back em down, son (I got'cha back, son)

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