Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Life's a Gamble, artist - Cappadonna. Date of issue: 01.02.2010
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Life's a Gamble |
| Aiyo, when we writing, yo, shit is like the vice laws |
| Fighting everybody wet, Lex dog, vibe on biting necks |
| There goes the new hammer, microwave blamp, from the stove to the roads |
| Down in New Hampshire, brolic size, wallet guys |
| Frame broiled shotties, with the Ducati’s, my pockets is set |
| Now watch what you rep, I’ve been buying niggas heads |
| Wall crawler, Captain Caveman, in the hall scrawling |
| Money is stacked up, better than yours |
| Do with the rappers, clap niggas, slap 'em, and car jack 'em |
| Everything niggas is serving, is crack, what, preferebly Kelloggs |
| You just a goldmine, yup, cereal bowls of heroin |
| Yup, the Don Baron, it’s worth hundreds, say something |
| Niggas fronting while we doubling, pump 'em |
| And lay 'em right in front of the steps |
| The new Mark Cuban, Mavericks, we moving like Arabics |
| Faces is wrapped, crosses on like Catholics |
| Blend to the music, it’s all in the game |
| Riding through life in this fast lane, fast change |
| Ya’ll deal when the lights green, but when that light change |
| You gotta make a slight change, use your wipers |
| Cause it might rain, life’s a gamble like a dice game |
| Aiyo, I’m when I’m writing I be thinking like Donald Goines |
| Posted up on the strip, fishing like bitches hoeing |
| Blowing like Jesse Owens, run laps around these tracks |
| And I stay up in the hood like, weed and cracks |
| Damn right, I still pack the strap, duck if I whip it out |
| But if I whip it out, you’re people will be picking out |
| A coffin and a tombstone, park 'em in the graveyard |
| Prayers and a leap of faith, probably couldn’t save ya’ll |
| That’s the path of bravhearts, clap you in the hallway |
| Turn two o’s that soft, into three the hard way |
| Move the diesel all day, shut it down in night time |
| That’s when the undercovers buy, in night time |
| Move to the forefront, Ratch' had the store front |
| First I had two goals, now I got more front |
| Bitch I been G’d up, put a O in front of that |
| Keep them bitches ski’d up, blowing off each other’s back |
| Riding through life in this fast lane, fast change |
| Ya’ll deal when the lights green, but when that light change |
| You gotta make a slight change, use your wipers |
| Cause it might rain, life’s a gamble like a dice game |
| Heavy white ice, gold ornaments, hustle and life |
| Hustle and light, good wit the pill |
| Be at all the tournaments, stroll in the beach |
| Out in Luv Allah, we love all of ya’ll |
| Killah Hill, Staten Africa, rap massacre |
| Make a phone call, have niggas get at cha |
| Rat ya, two double nines in the back of the Acura, it’s a Don thing |
| Don King, Don bitches under the ring |
| We don’t ever sing, raps get cut in the bing |
| Posse up, see me the Beemer or Benz truck |
| Reppin' that W, it’s trouble for you |
| Knife through ya bubble goose, veterans loose, 39 on the deuce |
| Pick it up, stick it up, niggas is thinking to bust |
| Breaking these states for they cake, you know what it do |
| What’s up, Goldie? |
| Niggas wanna march, hanging wit Jody |
| Street Flavor click, roll thicker than shit |
| We the upmost, faggot niggas get bitched |
| Smacked wit the toast, crackin' the line in the coke |
| Niggas’ll cutthroat, cutthroat, infered on top of the scope |
| Crack in the dial, mixed with soap, Killah Island… |