Victory (Live In Hawaii)
(专辑: Money In The Bank - 2003)
One, one, two (Non-stop) Yo, check me out right here yo Yo, yo we can't stay alive forever So if shit hit the
fan then we might as well die together I'm high as ever, more holes and more cheddar G-Unit move around with them pounds and Berettas Yea faggot, if I
want it I'm gon' have it Regardless if it's handed to me or I
gotta grab it Don't make a
ass outta yaself trying to stop me I'm cocky, raps rocky, nigga you sloppy You know that I'm, 8
levels above you, nigga I'll club you nigga, I
never heard of you, nigga, ugly nigga I'm the
wrong one to provoke You ratting on niggas is only gon' leave you smoke So the
only thing left now is tools for these cowards I
got no friends, fuck most of these cowards They pop shit 'til we start approaching these cowards While we lay around dollars, they lay around flowers I
got a
industry gangstress, that argues, and steams the
reefer And flip when I
call her bitch, like she Queen Latifah Not all the
vehicle's is long enough to stash the
street sweeper This shit can get uglier than the
Master P
sneaker We slidin through the
ruckus, with Prada on the
chuckus So the
spring break hoes home from college wanna fuck us I
ain't here to drop knowledge on you suckas I
sic Rottweilers on you fuckas, cops following to cuff us Top dollars to discuss this, whole lot of zeros When it comes to paper, I
blow a
soul out a
hero I'ma break before I
lay floor buried Besides, every rapper ain't a
star, and every plad ain't Burberry You can't tame Lloyd, smoking by the
big screen Changing the
channel, looks like I'm playing the
Game Boy I
know the
watch bothering ya vision But reach, and I'll put a
dot on ya head like it's part of your religion Why party with a
pigeon? I'm blowing a
10 'cause Bush handing flyers for a
party in a
prison I'm in the
Gucci vest, with the
green and red straps I'm the
last rapper to scare niggas since Craig Mack Now every morning's a
fast start And there ain't problem getting dressed 'cause my closet got more aisles than Pathmark Run, move starting a
wave Or leave with 12 shells in ya mouth like a
carton of eggs I'm the
young pimp pardon my age I
don't got long hair but if I
did she be parting my braids Niggas find what club they at Take 'em with us, and run a
train on 'em like a
subway map Your advance is grey Acura See these record labels got most artists getting fucked like the
gay rapper I
go to college on the
tour I'm going down in history nigga, next to Wallace and Shakur I
keep ya ammo clean, text polished in the
drawer Camera's by the
hamper that mine into the
floor By now, you probably heard of me Fresh outta surgery, flashy as a
fuck, you gon' have to murder me Burglary, I'm leaving with your Nikes burgundy, white tee: burgundy You match now, back down Niggas love to hate you, but love you when you disappear Catch me on the
boat with weed smoke and fishing gear Heavy when I
toke, C-notes from different years Bezzy and the
rope, remotes and liftin chairs You ain't rich, but we glad to snatch ya I
send cars to your crib like I'm a
cab dispatcher You better off with the
stupid guys, looking for a
coupe to drive You ain't gettin nutting but ya French fries supersized It's a
damn shame y'all still local I'm in a
million dollar studio layin my vocals, nigga Still in the
projects nigga, you ain't going nowhere You gon' fucking be there for the
rest of your muthafucking life And your momma sayin': I'm supposed to tell you something To encourage you, something positive, aight: Well, I
ain't gon' lie to you muthafucka, he ain't going nowhere Get yourself a
beer, and get on the
fucking curb You fucking dirt bag