Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song That's Survival, artist - Fiend. Album song The Addiction (Chopped & Screwed), in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 13.11.2006
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Orchard
Song language: English
That's Survival |
Flat out the Addiction you heard me, yo yo yo |
You are now tuned into reality TV, live from New Orleans |
I’m gon take you home on this one, this for everybody |
From the 3rd to the 17th, I’m gon let em see what they never saw befo' |
The true gumbo, yeah feel me |
Shit I ain’t got nothing more to say, talk to em Fiend |
You said you loved me, no matter if they scatter if I’m half of right |
Dropped a whole clip in him, he won’t be back tonight |
Truth is, I ain’t gotta be the killer |
Lil' robbing the grenada, want the scrilla |
And he got a mask, and he got a gun |
And when he blast, he like to tell em where he from |
Louisiana swamp nigga, translate into a hot boy |
With a chopper in hand, will tell you what you’re not boy |
Bodies in the river, this ain’t new |
Just the highest murder rate, that we been through |
Pressure on the G, put the medal to the scene |
All adds up to pussy, gas pedals of a V |
The devil don’t want them souls, they too hot |
Whoever knew, I’d live to see the big coupe drop |
Take my girl, to the new mink shops |
Prada’s on my eyes, the cuff her what they blood shots |
Presidential like the pounds just lit, let the drama lift |
Give the cops unless they frowns, tell em that’s what a baby mama get |
You want money whole money, fuck slow money |
All this here by us, what the fuck is your money |
One brother from Jordan, one from 1−7 |
One from the St. Bernard, the other up in heaven |
I don’t give a fuck nigga, how hard you spit |
Can’t amount to my heart, this dope and this dick |
And if you don’t buy it, and they don’t try it |
Well I guess mo’fucker, I done found my nitch |
Coke cooking in pots, same gas put the brokers in yachts |
I’m the American dream, and if I’m not |
Well something in conflict, like political nonsense |
Number one head buster, with no conscience |
My woman asks, baby when you gon sleep |
In the same breath, asks me baby when we gon eat |
This rap shit’s slow, I ain’t saying I’m too good for a regular job |
I just don’t, have the regular prob’s |
So motherfuck the eyes, I got permanent lawyers in three major cities |
So by money, it’s some feel me nigga |