68 lines
2.7 KiB
Plaintext
68 lines
2.7 KiB
Plaintext
|
B-Real
|
||
|
I lost my innocence at birth but I make no excuses
|
||
|
for the trivial things and the pain life induces
|
||
|
Bitches are wild, and so was I, young and stupid
|
||
|
it's incredible, what a shitty circumstance produces them
|
||
|
Criminals, led by the originals, high strung, motivated by the, principles
|
||
|
some of us out - he used to think we were invincible
|
||
|
on the corner bangin' and slangin' the high bitual
|
||
|
Deadly rituals fill my head, nothin' spiritual
|
||
|
Bullets filled up bodies like hands from my physical
|
||
|
I got touched by the hot hands of bitter fools
|
||
|
Divided and tempted snake bitten by the ridicule
|
||
|
Frustration and hate filled my adrenaline
|
||
|
I play doctors here's two bullets for your medicine
|
||
|
I carry those days like a weapon close to me
|
||
|
The memories of hot lead rippin' a hole through me
|
||
|
|
||
|
Son, fill your heater, how bout chase killer
|
||
|
Rock 'em up and show you're no quitter
|
||
|
Snakes' pit every ground I landed on
|
||
|
Hated on, but I'm still standin' strong
|
||
|
You hate the songs that you pump up all day long
|
||
|
Hated on, but I'm still standin' strong
|
||
|
Snakes' pit, every ground I landed on
|
||
|
Hated on, but I'm still standin' strong
|
||
|
Stand...
|
||
|
|
||
|
B-Real
|
||
|
So many, come and go in this lifetime that you serve
|
||
|
Faces change, liscenses' everywhere you turn
|
||
|
Gangsta's become blinded, visions become blurred
|
||
|
Learned to stay alive to the real side of the curb
|
||
|
You came along way but some still refuse to notice
|
||
|
they turned they back on us and they tried to provoke us
|
||
|
You ask about us, you talk trash about us
|
||
|
walk fast around us, but my block fast allowed us
|
||
|
Don't try to crowd us nigga, we'll smack you up
|
||
|
Look around and see who's willin' to back you up
|
||
|
You're in a ghost town and home alone like Macaulay nigga
|
||
|
don't say my name nigga, don't even think of me
|
||
|
Fire start spittin' from my grill piece, ya scorched up, touched up
|
||
|
I'm the C4 that blew up your porch
|
||
|
I spit venom quicker than the punch on your Porsche
|
||
|
Venom so deadly I'll make your fuckin' life divorce ya
|
||
|
Ask for Alamoney, bitches, you all phoney
|
||
|
I'll make you sing the blues like you're Paulpau Coloney
|
||
|
Go ask Moley, you in the middle of shit
|
||
|
And anything you say I'll be known the shit
|
||
|
The force drops hits a ball, makin' me die of laughter
|
||
|
Cause I know what these son-of-a-bitches are after
|
||
|
Your mind and soul, if your blind and cold
|
||
|
then your true sign is shown, then your fuckin' mind is blown
|
||
|
|
||
|
Son, fill your heater, how bout chase killer
|
||
|
Rock 'em up and show you're no quitter
|
||
|
Snakes' pit every ground I landed on
|
||
|
Hated on, but I'm still standin' strong
|
||
|
You hate the songs that you pump up all day long
|
||
|
Hated on, but we're still standin' strong
|
||
|
Snakes' pit, every ground I landed on
|
||
|
Hated on, but I'm still standin' strong
|
||
|
Stand...
|
||
|
|
||
|
____________
|
||
|
Name Bitter
|
||
|
Artist Cypress Hill
|
||
|
Album Stoned Raiders
|