Listen to 24 Hrs. To Live (feat. The Lox, Black Rob & DMX) by Mase

24 Hrs. To Live (feat. The Lox, Black Rob & DMX)

Mase

Hip-Hop/Rap

Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Mase
Mase
Vocals
J-Dub
J-Dub
Programming
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Robert Ross
Robert Ross
Songwriter
Carlos Broady
Carlos Broady
Songwriter
Sean Combs
Sean Combs
Songwriter
Nashiem Myrick
Nashiem Myrick
Songwriter
Deric "D-Dot" Angelettie
Deric "D-Dot" Angelettie
Songwriter
Mason Betha
Mason Betha
Songwriter
David Styles
David Styles
Songwriter
Deric Angelettie
Deric Angelettie
Songwriter
Earl Simmons
Earl Simmons
Songwriter
Jason Phillips
Jason Phillips
Songwriter
Robert Ross
Robert Ross
Songwriter
Sean Jacobs
Sean Jacobs
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Carlos Broady
Carlos Broady
Producer
Sean Combs
Sean Combs
Executive Producer
Deric "D-Dot" Angelettie
Deric "D-Dot" Angelettie
Associate Producer
Nashiem Myrick
Nashiem Myrick
Producer
Michael Patterson
Michael Patterson
Mixing Engineer
Stephen Dent
Stephen Dent
Recording Engineer
Herb Powers
Herb Powers
Mastering Engineer

Lyrics

I want you to ask yourself one question If you had 24 hours to live, what would you do? That's some deep shit right there, a lot of pressure How would you handle it? Mase, what would you do? Yo, I'd turn out all the hoes that's heterosexual Smack conceited niggas right off the pedestal I'd even look for my dad that I never knew And show him how I look in my Beretta, too I'd do good shit like take kids from the ghetto Show them what they could have if they never settle Take every white kid from high class level Show 'em what Christmas like growin' up in the ghetto Teach niggas how to spend, stack the rest Give blunts to the niggas under massive stress Give every bum on the street cash to invest And hope Harlem will blow up be my last request Yo, yo, if I had 24 hours to kick the bucket, fuck it I'd probably eat some fried chicken and drink a nantucket Then go get a jar from Branson And make sure I leave my mother, the money to take care of grandson Load the three power, hop in the Eddie Bauer And go give all six to that papi that sold me flour Get a fresh baldy, make a few calls Shop at the mall, shoot a lil' ball Have all of my bitches on one telly at the same time Spread it out on different floors And I'm gon' play lotto, for what? Even though I ain't gon' be here tomorrow, so what? You know when I was close to the ledge I'd probably be in the wedge With this bare Spanish mami playin' 'tween my legs Then I'm off to get choke and smoke one a them dreads And get that bitch from '89 that gave us up to the feds Thought of momma, wrote her a note, we ain't close I hate her boyfriend so I put one in his throat Fuck around and sniff an ounce of raw, bust the four Fours, pull out my dick and take a piss on the floor Jump in the whip, get them cats I wanted to get Since the Tavern on the green robbery in '86 Went home, took a shower in nice cold water And spent my last hours with my son and my daughter If you had 24 hours to live just think Where would you go? What would you do? Who would you screw? And who would you wanna notify? Or would yo' ass deny that yo' ass about to die? If you had 24 hours to live, just think Where would you go? What would you do? Who would you screw? And who would you wanna notify? Or would yo' ass deny that yo' ass about to die? What, aiyyo, if I had 24, nigga gotta get the raw Run all them Papi's spot, put one in his head at the door For the times that I paid for 20, an' he gave me 12 The other eight had to be baking soda by itself So papi, fuck you, you dead now, I'm off to the bank With those bricks in a bookbag and a stolen jag I just grabbed Went in there grabbed the bank teller with the pretty face Fuck her in the safe and have her take me to my place We'll make a kid but that's selfish and that'll be bad For my son to have the same shit his pop's just had And when I'm down to 23, I'm a be strapped with TNT Run up in City Hall and take the judges with me If I had 24 hours to live, I'd probably die on the fifth Run in the station squeezin' the inf' I'll be waitin' to get to hell and bust down Satan Styles' on this shit and I got spot vacant Back to the 24, I make it out the precinct Shootin' niggas that I hate in they face while they eatin' I'm on the job robbin' every so-called Don Give the money to my moms and tell her that I'm gone I would school my little brother that niggas mean him harm He should learn to tell the future without readin' palms When they come in with the bullets, you prepared with the bomb So fuck bein' violent, get stocks and bonds 24 left until my death So I'm gon' waste a lot of lives, but I'll cherish every breath I know exactly where I'm goin', but I'ma send you there first And with the shit that I'll be doin', I'ma send you there worse I've been livin' with a curse, and now it's all about to end But before I go, say hello to my little friend But I gots to make it right, reconcile with my mother Try to explain to my son, tell my girl I love her C-4 up under the coat, snatch up my dog Turn like three buildings on Wall Street, into a fog Out with a bang, you will remember my name I wanted to live forever, but this wasn't fame If you had 24 hours to live, just think Where would you go? What would you do? Who would you screw? And who would you wanna notify? Or would yo' ass deny that yo' ass about to die? If you had 24 hours to live, just think Where would you go? What would you do? Who would you screw? And who would you wanna notify? Or would yo' ass deny that yo' ass about to die? If you had 24 hours to live, just think Where would you go? What would you do? Who would you screw? And who would you wanna notify? Or would yo' ass deny that yo' ass about to die? If you had 24 hours to live, just think-
Writer(s): Deric Michael Angelettie, Nashiem Sa Allah Myrick, Carlos Daronde Broady, Leroy M. Bell, Casey James, Mason Betha, Jason Phillips, Robert Ross, David Styles, Sean Jacobs, Earl Simmons Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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