[Verse 1: Joe Budden] These niggas lied to me way back, Said this was where my buck stop Ridin' right by in my fly shit These niggas still at that bus stop, You'll never see these jeans sag You would think so with this tucked Glock And any nigga wanna go bar-for-bar Know I’m always with that club hop This your shit, y’all don’t know shit Them hoes you with is just average This four spittin’ that whole clip and my alibi is my bad bitch So don’t be the first to get it My life is like a movie and your bitch deserve the credit I just stood there and directed She just did what I expected Doin’ me but you'd do me too I’ll be me, my nigga, you be you I guess that men can be groupies too Recognize a winner – live like a born sinner Catered dinners, finna have a pool party in the winter Finna skinny dip bitch fuck them drawers, Her brains are killer and I love em' all, Said my head got a price on it, She come through and just suck it off, So if you scared get a weapon Every day a nigga live like he prepared for armagedon
[Hook: Joe Budden] Now when they call me to them gates and they ask me how I live I feel I ain’t have a choice like my stomach’s to my ribs Niggas wanted me dead, I kept hammers in the crib But nah, I don’t regret a fuckin’ thing I ever did So I spend like it’s my last day
Club like it’s my last day Ride like it’s my last day Fry like it’s my last day Fuck like it’s my last day Fuck boys wanna blast me This might be your last day But it won’t be my last day
[Verse 2: Juicy J] Yes sir Juicy J, Joe Budden Lets get it
Models by my side Shooters on my team Choppers with the beam Countin’ up some green Blowin’ on a blue dream My life is like a movie and your bitch just made a scene Me and your bitch just made a scene Wake up and I smoke somethin’ After that, I poke somethin’ Bet she bad with a fat ass Beat it up like she stole somethin’ Fuck two times then I roll somethin’ Can’t no nigga do it like me All my chains is icy All my clothes is pricy In Louis Vuittons, no Nikes I’m Nino Brown, you Ice-T Snitchin’ equals dead bodies Snitchin’ equals dead bodies Nigga caught a death wish, think he caught me slippin’ I don’t play that bull, boy I shoot like Scottie Pippen
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Lloyd Banks] I’m dressed up with my sport keys My Rollie, bands, love short sleeves Wanted man when I cross seas All my bitches crossbreeds These big faces talk Gs I lace my H’s, walk free I’m V-Sixin’ in V-Twelves Ninety-three is my horse fee Life’s a bitch I figured I’d bone Smoke this weed while I get a little dome Black star when it’s all said and done Gotta put my name in the middle of the road Open boxes, a pair a day Mine don’t come in pearl yet Got a party out in the UK I’mma hit them hoes with my Euro step Insomniac, gotta live my life Where’s the pie? Gotta get my slice I hommie shit, where’s the body bag? Kiss my Maserati ass Two thick queens in a king’s suite Gettin’ energized off thin sleet I let all my AKAs hit They thought I was ten deep Miss waitin’ on me get a hundred dollar tip Pray to God, heard my number and I hit Choose me, girl, make ‘em come in for the chip When you doin’ good all the summers go quick Trust nobody, got thunder on the hip Shotty in the crib, don’t start no shit Bad chick, ass and her stomach don’t fit Know your lane, don’t come with no lip
[Hook]Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
