Lyrics
Yo!

Yo, yo, yo, yo, hey, yo
Never will it stop
Hang guns with double digit shots
I move work on other niggas blocks
Leave out the club wit a another niggas watch
Body that man and let other niggas watch
Only thing worse than a coward, is a coward with power
Gotta kill him in the shower, hour
Beats is knocking, hooks is rare
Earned my spot, nobody ain't put me here
Burnt my block, I had a fiend cooking with beer
Like the Bobby Womack of crack
Might see me in the Burgundy thing, or the black on black
Matter of fact, go get ya chrome
'Cause I rather be, broke together than rich alone
Clapping em' down, backing em' down (uh)
Fuck what ever happened before, I'm what's happening now

Now gangstas live, gangstas die
Grab ya guns, soldiers ride (show discipline nigga!)
Kill ya moms, kill ya pops, kill ya seed
Kill ya girl (it's principle nigga!)
Sell ya crack, sell ya coke
Sell ya E, sell ya smoke (you hustling nigga!)
Grab ya nine, grab ya pound
Grab ya Tec, grab ya pump (you busting at niggas!, what)

We brave hearted, I had bitches trying to poison me
Niggas who kilt loyalty
Set me up, vested up my move accordingly
I ducked ice picks and ice sticks by cops who rookies
Hard to be righteous, and when life can just stop for pussy
Niggas killing over hoes, guns concealed in their clothes
Bodies at funerals, touch them they feel like they froze
Speech, totally calm, hold a dead rappers dome in my palm
Burn a flag, plus its on the Qu'ran, its on the bible
Plus America cause that every car that's driving
Holding the homeless silent you focus you know its Nas then,
Prince of the globe, leave no prince of the toast
Played with Ouija boards, burned frankincense with a ghost
I've learned, to do good plus a waste of evil
And do what it takes to keep a smile on the face of my people
I was raised by the apes in this dark creep show, but yo

Now gangstas live, gangstas die
Grab ya guns, soldiers ride (show discipline nigga!)
Kill ya moms, kill ya pops, kill ya seed
Kill ya girl (it's principle nigga!)
Sell ya crack, sell ya coke
Sell ya E, sell ya smoke (you hustling nigga!)
Grab ya nine, grab ya pound
Grab ya Tec, grab ya pump (you busting at niggas! What)

Think bout when I splatter ya mask (yea)
My niggas is happy, ya momma is sad
If ya niggas is riders, the drama will last
If ya niggas is snitch, been judging my ass
They said I'm too famous to run
So when I empty out this clip, I'm changing the gun
The realer the beef, the longer the clip
Murder ya mans, I'm gone in the mist
Call this girl after dark so we talked the bitch
We ain't care cause the whore wasn't shit
Doll, I ain't taking the L or wasting a shell
I bring the heat like I'm Satan itself
Fuck if you hard, fuck if you soft, long as you lost
Dick in the dirt, shit in ya drawers
I'll make ya grandmother get on the floor
Tie you up, then beat you to a pulp, say that this is a war
If in the four, mackin' a pump, acting I dump
Throw you out the window then act like you jump

Now gangstas live, gangstas die
Grab ya guns, soldiers ride (show discipline nigga!)
Kill ya moms, kill ya pops, kill ya seed
Kill ya girl (it's principle nigga!)
Sell ya crack, sell ya coke
Sell ya E, sell ya smoke (you hustling nigga!)
Grab ya nine, grab ya pound
Grab ya Tec, grab ya pump (you busting at niggas! What)

Now gangstas live, gangstas die
Grab ya guns, soldiers ride (show discipline nigga!)
Kill ya moms, kill ya pops, kill ya seed
Kill ya girl (it's principle nigga!)
Sell ya crack, sell ya coke
Sell ya E, sell ya smoke (you hustling nigga!)
Grab ya nine, grab ya pound
Grab ya Tec, grab ya pump (you busting at niggas! What)

Copyright: Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): David Styles, Imsomie Leeper, Jason T Phillips, Jason Van Lear, Nasir Jones




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