MC Eiht - Till I Die - Tekst piosenki, lyrics - teksciki.pl

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Tekst piosenki
[EIHT] Geah Thug shit, nigga G's in the Y-2-K Hey, what can I say? (geah) Hoo-Bangin's official, nigga And right now we gon' do some of that thug shit for that ass (killa) Geah, that's makin' me wanna do some of that evil shit (West Side!) Check it out [EIHT] Feel a little gust of wind so I jet This real nigga dwells from Compton, no shit Thugs town, right now car jacks and sales County bus rolls through - niggas trips to jail What the hell won't trade it, high class can't fade it Out of town trips with pigeons is how we made it Y'all niggas hate to get a dubs and rocks Land of the green weed and cars that ???? hops Don't stop - packin' my heat and Beretta Guarantee my hollows goes tough through your leather Whenever the rhyme play or the 9 play (ping ping!) It's a done deal when I hit you run way Y'all niggas must be gay, smilin' and shakin' How this bitch greed shakin' up money, we keep mention Never fakin' the funk, punk, I pops the trunk 4-5 hittin' yo' body, takin' a big chunk, geah Till I die nuthin' but makin' cheese Till I die tryin' to come up on ki's Till I die nuthin' but guns and weed Till I die givin' you just what you need [EIHT] Murda, murda, murda, kill, kill, kill Steel is my reputation, caps get peeled Front line nigga for dollars is my nigga But I'm kinda fast when they spit the 9 triggers Till my dying day I lay away Till my very last breath, nigga, I swear to make you pay Guilty conscience? Never me! Last night nigga done caught a felony Jealousy try to approach, wanna promote Then provoke through gun smoke, watch out, loc! Shake down cause these niggas fuckin' with yours Get in where you fit in even if it's a back door Or the window, tie up the ho', where's the scope? Trying to hand me you popped, you're booked, I want more Lock down for me on the bus downtown Now my - outlook is a sad-faced clown, geah Chorus... [MACK 10] Till I die is gon' be H double O B-A-N-G-I-N fo' sho' Niggas never thought that they would ever see me With my - eh - blue rag buddy from the C-P-T We be kickin' in do's, sweevin' 4-4's Shovin' 30 clips in a fully Mack 1-0's So as the clock tickin' - and the plot thickens We be juggin' up Sherman - and rockin' up chicken (What you need, nigga?) Time to elevate the game and turn it up a notch And bust on the muthafuckin' neighborhood watch My money greener than a clover - in a 4-6 Rover I be a millionaire thuggin until it's all over I take a ice cold 40 of Cristal and what they servin' Me and a Persian ho in a 6-4 blowin' doja while we swervin' Keep that off the hood, greed and determination in my eye, nigga Be my piece of the pie, nigga, so I ride until I die,nigga Chorus...
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