Lyric Livin
featuring Blaze, Sticky Fingaz, X-1
(Do you believe in God? 98 nigga)
[Sticky Fingaz]
I m from New York nigga, the murder capital
Come in my hood wearin the wrong shit, they might cap you
I m a sinner, I hope God forgive me
At the rate I m goin now my moms ll probably out-live me
All my niggas is hardcore criminals
All I got left is my word and my genitals
I m on some thug shit till I get cremated
Me and Larry Davis probably related
I hate the judge and can t stand the cops
Wanna dump on them pigs till my hands get hot
You wanna KILL ME? I ain t scared to get smoked
I ll probably die laughin, cuz y all niggas is jokes WHAT!
I wanna wrap my hands around your throat WHAT!
I ll make Ted Bundy look like the pope
I show no love cuz I ain t got no feelings
You know the routine, reach for the ceiling
And if not for you, do it for your child s sake, nigga
I ll get you murdered then come to your wake
I speak in four-letter words, my rhymes is curse
Niggas ears gon bleed when they hear this verse
Holdin court in the streets, I ain t doin a bid
I d rather die, put that on my unborn kid
There s two ways out the game, death or jail
If there s a God, then WHY THE FUCK I M LIVIN IN HELL?
Chorus
There s two ways out the game, death or jail
If there s a God, then why He got us livin in hell (4x)
[X-1]
X-1 ll blast five (BLAOW!) through the back of your neck
Out your mouth, I ll bet that ll straighten you out
Live shit is the realest shit of all subjects
And I love wreck, put the pressure on any suspect
Life tactics is all I spit in my rap shit
Most y all cats is wack and need practice
Get burned to ashes, spit on your casket
It s mad sick, drastic, it don t get no harder than this
Squeezin hard for the chips
More bricks, the larger the wrist but that s the fun of it
Every car hidden got a gun in it, I m tryin to get mine
Get out and run wit it, kid extort your block
Unorthodox, this is all off the top
X-1 ll throw you off the docks
And I done laid the best to rest over this music
Half y all niggas is S-O-S WHAT
Stuck On Stupid
Chorus
[Blaze]
Slugs I send express, take it to your face and chest
Digest gun smoke, don t provoke finger in trigger
Been love sick, gat throw like ugly
Mister thug clip, biggest the slugs hit
One of you bugs better maintain
I claim you got game, drown you in a lake of octane
Never miss when I cock the four-fifth
Stain your garments, hit any target
>From New York to Cali, I leave you fucked up in a back alley
Swell you up and bury your heart
Shells won t stop fallin, once they start blocks spark
It s trouble, rippin your parts, for your flesh bubble
Hell cuddles my life line in this trife time
Bust shots, live nines
Drive mines crazy like V-J Day
Live life the PJ way, it s D-Day
When A & A sprays
Travelin, like a heat-seekin javelin
Blaze slays rivals when battlin
Chorus
(Do you believe in God? 98 nigga)
[Sticky Fingaz]
I m from New York nigga, the murder capital
Come in my hood wearin the wrong shit, they might cap you
I m a sinner, I hope God forgive me
At the rate I m goin now my moms ll probably out-live me
All my niggas is hardcore criminals
All I got left is my word and my genitals
I m on some thug shit till I get cremated
Me and Larry Davis probably related
I hate the judge and can t stand the cops
Wanna dump on them pigs till my hands get hot
You wanna KILL ME? I ain t scared to get smoked
I ll probably die laughin, cuz y all niggas is jokes WHAT!
I wanna wrap my hands around your throat WHAT!
I ll make Ted Bundy look like the pope
I show no love cuz I ain t got no feelings
You know the routine, reach for the ceiling
And if not for you, do it for your child s sake, nigga
I ll get you murdered then come to your wake
I speak in four-letter words, my rhymes is curse
Niggas ears gon bleed when they hear this verse
Holdin court in the streets, I ain t doin a bid
I d rather die, put that on my unborn kid
There s two ways out the game, death or jail
If there s a God, then WHY THE FUCK I M LIVIN IN HELL?
Chorus
There s two ways out the game, death or jail
If there s a God, then why He got us livin in hell (4x)
[X-1]
X-1 ll blast five (BLAOW!) through the back of your neck
Out your mouth, I ll bet that ll straighten you out
Live shit is the realest shit of all subjects
And I love wreck, put the pressure on any suspect
Life tactics is all I spit in my rap shit
Most y all cats is wack and need practice
Get burned to ashes, spit on your casket
It s mad sick, drastic, it don t get no harder than this
Squeezin hard for the chips
More bricks, the larger the wrist but that s the fun of it
Every car hidden got a gun in it, I m tryin to get mine
Get out and run wit it, kid extort your block
Unorthodox, this is all off the top
X-1 ll throw you off the docks
And I done laid the best to rest over this music
Half y all niggas is S-O-S WHAT
Stuck On Stupid
Chorus
[Blaze]
Slugs I send express, take it to your face and chest
Digest gun smoke, don t provoke finger in trigger
Been love sick, gat throw like ugly
Mister thug clip, biggest the slugs hit
One of you bugs better maintain
I claim you got game, drown you in a lake of octane
Never miss when I cock the four-fifth
Stain your garments, hit any target
>From New York to Cali, I leave you fucked up in a back alley
Swell you up and bury your heart
Shells won t stop fallin, once they start blocks spark
It s trouble, rippin your parts, for your flesh bubble
Hell cuddles my life line in this trife time
Bust shots, live nines
Drive mines crazy like V-J Day
Live life the PJ way, it s D-Day
When A & A sprays
Travelin, like a heat-seekin javelin
Blaze slays rivals when battlin
Chorus
