Lost Boyz

Lost Boyz - Only Live Once songtekst

Je score:


(Cheeks)

These mothafuckas made it this way

I show 'em mine

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Official Queens crack stars gettin money

Rollin trees in the backwoods

Timberlands, ???, black hoods

The territories rugged, certain bimbos love it

I fuck wit cats ???

Keep my Timbo's covered

We ride around in the streets, kid we duckin knicks

Money power wit some game, kid we fuckin chicks

The hard times help me sharpen up

We be in Watts, but still be sparkin up

Love it when the day darken up

My life is like a movie, big guns and booze play a part

I came through to display an art

Yo, fuck you jealous niggas

I take care a fam and I lay low

I'm livin kid, I got the money plus the yayo

And hold a heat up on the seat because it's gettin wicked

You get yo dough, I get my dough

Let's blow so we can kick it



(Hook - Mr. Hezekiah) 2x 

You only live once so let's ride

Let's take it to the top

This one crew you can't stop



(Street Connect)

Yo is you mothafuckas out a yo mind?

We them niggas that be holdin it down

Half of the reason you live

Other fifty percent of the reason you frown

Behind the back you pop shit

But when we be wavin them thangs you innocent

Cause we in this bitch, Raw Dogs

Is you askin for a New York City war call?

We keep it gritty for all a y'all

But some you niggas act like you goin through menopause

And that's the second we send 'em to morgues

Slay 'em down, get in them drawers

Been put on, what you tellin me for?

Look at 'em beggin for more

Either they yellin or givin applause

Picture livin laws while we got x-cons on the dance floor

Goody niggas playin the wall

And ??? bitches rockin hoodies wit razors inside the sports bra

We told y'all but ya wasn't tryna listen to us



(Hook)



(Izzy Dead)

Ever since the day I was born my lifestyle been real

Bloody stories on blank paper is what my pen spill

My men still, sellin coke, cooked up and powdered out

In a big body smoked out, shit is clouded out

We official crack stars, bury bodies in back yards

You neva touch nothin

Sayin you blast niggas and clap cars

I get a back massage from a bad European

And switch my bird every season

And I'm rollin up my treason

But my question is, give me one reason to let you live

But you good at talkin ya way out a shit, I be you is

So I sex ya wiz, kill you, and leave ya wife left wit kids

Ghetto black widow

What nigga, my mac glitto

Attack ya hitto

It's like pimp talk wit a limp walk

And crazy dough is what I'm in for

Somethin you bent off, but couldn't touch

Scream you got guns but wouldn't bust

Never fuck wit niggas out a my circle I don't trust



(Hook)
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Taal: Engels

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