Conspiracy - Onyx: Song Lyrics, Music Videos & Concerts

Conspiracy

4,293

Hip-Hop/Rap

Conspiracy was released on June 2, 1998 by Def Jam Recordings as a part of the album Shut 'Em Down

Song Details

AlbumShut 'Em Down

Release DateJune 2, 1998

LabelDef Jam Recordings

Melodicness

Acousticness

Valence

Danceability

Energy

BPM89

OVERVIEW

LYRICS

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS

Onyx

Performer

COMPOSITION & LYRICS

Tyrone Taylor

Composer

Fred Scruggs

Composer

Sticky Fingaz

Composer

Gaines Spivey

Composer

B. Sandlin

Composer

PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING

DJ Scratch

Producer

Ken "Supa Engineer" Duro

Ken "Supa Engineer" Duro

Mixing Engineer

Lyrics

Get on the floor, alright?

Yo, man, get the fuck off me

Get down on the ground and spread 'em out, alright?

Yo, aight-aight, man!

Get the fuck down on the ground, man

Aight, man!

Now keep your ass on the floor

Yo, who the fuck can I trust, man?

You can trust me, man, ha-ha

Everywhere I turn, there's danger, God!

Ah, ha-ha-ha-ha

Yo, I feel like the walls is closin' in on me, man!

Ay, I am Stress

Buggin', man, arrrgh!

Yeah, I got you where I want you

Word up, man

Ha-ha

Ain't got nowhere to go, son

No you don't

Yo, these streets is tryin' to kill me. My best friend

Could be my worst enemy, this game is deadly

This ghetto might murder me or lock me up

Twenty-five to life, throw the key

These streets is tryin' to kill me. My best friend

Could be my worst enemy, this game is deadly

This ghetto might murder me or lock me up

Twenty-five to life, throw the key (Yo, yo)

You know, what happens in the actions of the inner city tale

When your thoughts fail and have you scared to death biting off your fingernails

Not enough, numbers on the weight scale

Got, **** cuttin' throat just to make sales

Even if it take the last of me, I'ma fill my pockets to capacity

Anything that tastes cash, fuck job huntin'

Put on a face mask, kid, I'm out to rob something

If you home or not, I put the chrome to your knot

One shot to the side of your face

Let me up inside of your place

Gimme the funds up out of the safe, hit the fire escape

High-divin' gates, flyin' from Jakes, I'm dyin' for pape's

Yo, yo, these streets is tryin' to kill me. My best friend

Could be my worst enemy, this game is deadly

This ghetto might murder me or lock me up

Twenty-five to life, throw the key

Yo, I'm caught up, stuck in the tangled web

Where they'd love to see me dead, mail my mom's my head

So the tricolored silenced Ruger stay off-safe

To take off a face, just in case, a quiet lace

Plottin', for your knot-and, your spot-and, your block-and

Anything else, you got and, hopefully you stinkin' rotten

So eyes open, don't sleep

'Cause once you do you goin' deep, mo' money mo' heat

Police, wanna brutalize me to death

And my foes wanna see me lose all my breath

Maybe friends come wanna merk me for my Benz

And bitches that gave me skins, wanna watch my end

Cut open my chest and see my heart, pump the last

Ounce of life for livin', it's a price

'Til then, when it's over, kamikaze

Strictly, I'm takin' all you, motherfuckers, with me

Yo, these streets is tryin' to kill me. My best friend

Could be my worst enemy, this game is deadly

This ghetto might murder me or lock me up

Twenty-five to life, throw the key

When I die, I don't want none of my **** to cry

Just dress me in a black suit and a black tie (C'mon)

Pass me by to the darkest cloud in the sky (Yeah)

No time to waste, we got the drugs in the briefcase

We stickin' up the whorehouse, we takin' everything

We want the pussies to the diamond rings

You want the sun to shine? We want the rain to pour

Afficial Nast'll put your body on the floor

(*Gun shots*)

Oh, shit! I'm hit! I'm hit! They just shot me in the stomach!

Uhhhh! (*Gun shots*) Who want it? Who want it?

**** tryin' to kill me and they caught me by surprise

That's when I blacked out, my life flashed before my eyes

My whole life I ain't never give a shit

My mentality was (*Gun reload*) get shot or gimme it

Damn, if the gun ain't jam, I woulda bust you

I don't trust my own mother, how the fuck I'ma trust you?

I did some things that I sorta regret

But I can't bring them **** back, kid, they already wet

As a kid I went to jail, 'cause I sold crack

I'm holdin' trial in the streets, 'cause I ain't tryin' to go back

Oh, shit! What happened? Wait, now I 'member!

And where my gun? I must've dropped it when I jumped out that window

Ah, my stomach! Where them ****? I don't see 'em

I gotta make it to the BM and try to stop this bleeding

I ain't trying to die, I got mad blood spilt

(Hey, yo! There that ****, go kill him!) Oh shit! (****Gun shot****)

I left behind a widow and a bastard kid

The streets was tryin' to kill me—and it did

These streets is tryin' to kill me. That's why I keep

A MAC-Mil this shit is real to me, this shit is deadly

This ghetto might murder me or lock me up

For twenty five to life throw the key, I'm low key

So **** don't notice me, a half a key is worth

More than a pound of weed, I die for my seed

Kill for my family, fuck this world

'Cause this world don't understand me, I'm sick mentally

I'm drinkin' Hennessy mixed with Tennessee

Shit is stressing me, **** praying for the death of me

But 'til they bury me, when sixteen shots

Enter me, remember me—your worst enemy

Motherfuckers! Knowimsayin'

Written by: B. Sandlin, Fred Scruggs, Gaines Spivey, Sticky Fingaz, Tyrone Taylor

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