| What?
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| Back-to-back Benzes, with the wild gremlins
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| Gaudier style lenses, talons in the .40 cal, this is life now
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| Let me find out you want the lifestyle of mine
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| No pal of mine
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| Runnin' with goons with knife wounds from jail time
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| Got the squad lookin' like tycoon, we all shine
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| While we polly with the flyest mommy on 25th street
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| Watch how honey in the Lex do it
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| I’m in the 6V with the 12 next to it
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| You wanna stick me? |
| Then put ya best to it or die, black
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| We see you in Allah Kingdom you try that
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| Check the fly cat, 2 point 5 multiply that
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| Cash rules, on my arm I flash jewels and tattoos
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| You can look but don’t touch, we bad news
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| American me, elegancy, treasury
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| With the hopes to be rich before they bury me
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| Born a baptist, but moved on to higher practice
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| My fire ashes, only macks I interact with
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| We all Dons, strong arm, all on calm
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| But if it’s war we on, comin' for niggas who crossed me wrong
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| Select features, sit back, connect the pieces
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| Inject the thesis, spoke to my pops and left him speechless
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| He saw me sprout, goin' through worlds that wore me out
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| Never call me out, bitches and money, that’s what we all about
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| Through all the routes, landed here
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| Beach houses with the chandelier
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| Me and my crew, mad cans of beer
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| It’s copin', live vibe, still eyes open, it’s clear
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| Presidential suites at the Tangier
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| (How you livin' on your block?) Mines is hot
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| How you livin' on your block? |
| (I got it locked)
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| (What's goin' down on your side, who got shot?)
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| Same shit dun (yeah, alright, I’ll meet you up top)
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| Yo, it’s hard to shake this feelin' that I might get knocked
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| (Dun, you know it don’t stop, we can’t close up shop)
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| VVSin', nuttin' less than how we steppin'
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| Coupes kitted, cuties with it, sleazy dressin'
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| See me flexin' through the hood, D’s be stressin'
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| Illegal search, tryin' to find weapons for gun possession
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| Never one for questions, every move made is destined
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| Black fluorescence, let’s take it back to the essence
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| Another version of the Goldie, mack pimp servin'
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| Convince the urban, project ghetto prince emergin'
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| Half Hispanic, hollow tips, massive damage
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| The path was granted, loaded gats, blast the cannon
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| Chipped up, live by morals, don’t get it mixed up
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| Diss what? |
| Millionaire strut, with the Cris' cup
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| Switched up, slow goin', gold showin'
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| Doe flowin', eyes don’t lie, hoes knowin'
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| Main attraction, lace love in the latest fashion
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| Trained in mackin', never rockin' Gators clashin'
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| Assorted wear, AZ, Firm extraordinaire
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| Make it more severe, lockin' shit down all this year
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| Nowhere to go from here, but the top of this sphere
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| Nuttin' stoppin' us here, we lockin' this here
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| With the black toaster by my hip bone, fuck a holster
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| See me at the Copa, platinum choker
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| The Gods with me, mad blunt smoke, it’s hard to miss me
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| Pick one out of two dimes to twist me
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| New nines is crispy, mind on chips
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| Rhyme on shit that’s strictly made for cats whose rich
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| Excuse me, is that your bitch in my 6
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| Turnin' up the volume when she hear my hits?
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| On her wall mad flicks, now you want me blasted
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| But don’t get it confused over this rap shit
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| Kinda laced, lookin' at diamonds in my onyx face
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| Oyster Perpetual Rollie with the Day and Date
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| Y’all playa hate this
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| Too fly for female singers who get face lifts and fake titties
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| We rule the world and take cities
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| I dreamed of this, son
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| Happy we made it passed the Jakes
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| Fakes and fiends in the slum (word)
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| (How you livin' on your block?) Mines is hot
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| How you livin' on your block? |
| (I got it locked)
|
| (What's goin' down on your side, who got shot?)
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| Same shit dun (yeah, alright I’ll meet you up top)
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| Yo, it’s hard to shake this feelin' that I might get knocked
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| (Dun you know it don’t stop, we can’t close up shop)
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| (Uh…what?) It’s a doe thing, niggas know the game don’t change
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| (Uh, uh) from the coke game (coke game) to the dope game
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| From a slow brain (dope game) Ha, ha (fuck a no name)
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| We done did it again son, they can’t fuck around (no doubt, uh)
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| You know the game don’t stop
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| From the coke game to the dope game
|
| (Firm Biz, Firm Biz… uh…Total Package)
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| Niggas know that the game don’t stop
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| From the coke game to the dope game
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| Fuck a no name (uh, uh B.K., Q.B., uh)
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| That the game don’t stop, from the coke game
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| To the dope game, know the doe… (Escobar, Sosa, ha ha, uh)
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| Niggas know that the game don’t stop (Firm Biz)
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| From the coke game to the dope game
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| Niggas know that the game don’t stop
|
| Niggas know that the game don’t stop
|
| Niggas know that the game don’t stop
|
| From the coke game, to the dope game, fuck a no name |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song How Ya Livin' featuring Nas, artist - AZ. Album song Pieces Of A Man, in the genre Поп