Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song One Time, artist - Brotha Lynch Hung. Album song EBK4, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 04.11.2005
Record label: Black Market
Song language: English
One Time |
| Like it’s one time |
| Grindin' in the California sunshine |
| Man, these wicked streets will drive a nigga insane |
| The weak’ll cock back and put pistols to they brain |
| The weed, alcohol, nicotine, and cocaine’s |
| The plot to break the strong down |
| To eat, you gotta cheat or break a law now |
| Fuck 'em, buck 'em all down |
| Y’all down? |
| We can tear this muthafucka up again |
| Shootin', lootin', snatchin' people out they truck again |
| Fuck 'em then, muthafuckas wanna lock me up again |
| Have me stretched, stressin', writin' letters home from the pen |
| And man, fuck that, I’d rather be stuck back on my block |
| Sellin' rocks wit' a Glock, probably runnin' from the cops |
| Fuck one time, grindin' in the California sunshine |
| Where the motto’s get rich, bitch, fuck money sometimes |
| Runnin' numbers, rob the runners, get your bundles |
| Keep it comin', get it, get it, hollerin' «Money money money» |
| Like it’s one time |
| Grindin' in this California sunshine |
| From L.A. to the Bay to Sac-town and back down |
| Take a bird outta town on a Greyhound |
| Or serve on the curb in ya hood, nigga, stay down |
| Like it’s one time |
| Grindin' in this California sunshine |
| From L.A. to the Bay to Sac-town and back down |
| Take a bird outta town on a Greyhound |
| Or serve on the curb in ya hood, nigga, stay down |
| Block shit, we rock shit like cocaine |
| Hit the mean streets trippin' and dippin', servin' up whole thangs |
| Hot than a muh’fucka |
| There goes the rival, you know the city’s too small |
| Better know I’m liable, I’ll take a strap up in the mall |
| No bullshit, illegal full clips |
| Got that dual shit, we be smokin' 'em up |
| You don’t know enough, it’s rough |
| If life was free, I would say «Fuck pussy!» |
| Nigga, don’t push me, I’m an old-face killer, J. Voorhees |
| Even if it’s bloody, more cheese |
| Smokin' hella pounds of weed |
| O.E. |
| fuckin' up my gut but I’m as drunk as can be and eatin' raw meat |
| Reap what you sow |
| I got that heat that’ll make you cold |
| Die at 21, nigga, fuck gettin' old |
| Money to fold, kill at shows, shootin' lead toes |
| Hit then split, don’t trust no setup hoes, wet up clothes |
| Grindin' in this Killafornia sunshine |
| One 9, killer for hire, fuck money sometimes |
| Like it’s one time |
| Grindin' in this California sunshine |
| From L.A. to the Bay to Sac-town and back down |
| Take a bird outta town on a Greyhound |
| Or serve on the curb in ya hood, nigga, stay down |
| Like it’s one time |
| Grindin' in this California sunshine |
| From L.A. to the Bay to Sac-town and back down |
| Take a bird outta town on a Greyhound |
| Or serve on the curb in ya hood, nigga, stay down |
| I live a life of a mobster |
| Catch us talkin' money, eatin' lobster |
| And life swallow niggas whole just like a monster |
| Your bones is the proof of death |
| Investigators later said he died a spooky death |
| And you don’t even wanna hear how they said he died |
| Just as well, California’s home for homicides |
| We dodge death all day tryna stay paid |
| And if our rivals don’t come, then the cops don’t raid |
| So if a nigga ain’t high, you know we drunk as fuck |
| And if a nigga ain’t rich, he’s tryna touch a buck |
| We holla… |
| Like it’s one time |
| Grindin' in this California sunshine |
| From L.A. to the Bay to Sac-town and back down |
| Take a bird outta town on a Greyhound |
| Or serve on the curb in ya hood, nigga, stay down |
| Like it’s one time |
| Grindin' in this California sunshine |
| From L.A. to the Bay to Sac-town and back down |
| Take a bird outta town on a Greyhound |
| Or serve on the curb in ya hood, nigga, stay down |