Testi

Everybody everywhere is scratching for what they can get Did you think anybody in this town is any different? They don't give a damn who gets killed Just as long as the dice keep rollin' The hoes keep hoeing, and the money keeps flowin' My name is L, and I'm from a part of town where clowns Get beat down and all you hear is gunshot sounds On 139 and Lenox Ave, there's a big park And if you're soft, don't go through it when it gets dark 'Cause at nighttime niggas try to tax They're sneakier than alley cats, that's why I carry gats Yo, I'm a motherfuckin' fugitive Buckwild and foul is the lifestyle that I choose to live Because to me, it's all about a buck I used to have a partner in crime by the name of Chuck We stormed the city, shooting shit up like Frank Nitti We robbed kids and split the dough 50-50 One day, we stuck a dice game on the ave and split the cash Then I murdered his ass and took his half Because I'm all about ends and skins When you got those, you don't need no motherfuckin' friends If I catch you on a late night, black, you're getting stuck, jack My moms told me to get a job, fuck that Ayo, picture me getting a job Taking orders from Bob, selling corn on the cob Yo, how the hell I'ma make ends meet Making about 120 dollars a week Man, I rather do another hit I want clean clothes, mean hoes and all that other shit Yo, I admit, I'm a sucker A low down, dirty, sneaky, double-crossin' connivin' muthafucker Breaking in cribs with a crowbar I wasn't poor, I was po', I couldn't afford the 'o-r' I used to wait until it gets dark And tell a nigga to strip, I wanna see some birthmarks Like a ninja, dressed in black with a ski mask I take all the funds, then I run down the street fast I vicked this nigga named Eugene, took his brand-new ring 'Cause sticking up's an everyday routine Once I was crusing in a beat-up ride Saw this nigga named Clyde and snuck up on him from the blind side I told him, "Give up the dough, before you get smoked Oh, you're broke? Now you're dead broke" The Big L was cold crazy A top-notch crook snatching pocketbooks from old ladies I don't care, I'll do anything to get a buck Even rob a Miller truck, 'cause I don't give a fuck Some say I'm ruthless, some say I'm grim Once a burglar broke into my house and I robbed him Plenty and many brains I bust 'Cause I was livin' the lifestyle of the poor and dangerous Word All of us from Harlem, 139 That's living the lifestyle of the poor and dangerous Know what I'm saying? This goes out to my brothers Big Lee and Don Ice Reggie Reg, T.C., Todd, Lou, Black Tone Whitey, Ty Speeder, Ru Dog, Herb McGruff E-Jet, G Love, Doc Ring, Slice and Rich Dice I can't forget the 1-4-0, Lennox Ave. crew And I gotta say rest in peace to Mate the Skate, Dog And my man Kerry, peace Now what kinda life is that for a child Now what kinda life is that for a child Now what kinda life is that for a child Now what kinda life is that for a fuckin' child Word to mother, fuck all that stupid shit Controversial, not commercial, nigga
Writer(s): Lamont Coleman, Robert A Hall Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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