Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song What's Your Life Worth?, artist - Hussein Fatal. Date of issue: 23.03.1998
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
What's Your Life Worth? |
| — Yall muthafuccaz don’t wanna die |
| stop all that bull shit frontin’and all that talk |
| a real nigga will pick the time, to go what |
| Verse one |
| Kadafi like the lyrical father hezzy |
| give me feet if your crucified, like you was Jesus |
| on the floor spreadin', like diseases |
| sippin’the Henny, who say cool lockin’the Semi |
| Automatic, niggas jumpin’like acrobatics, when static erupts |
| you stuck, wit no fuckin’bucket to piss in know all you cowards goin’miss in, heres a bitch |
| name glock you blockin’me, to be kissin'(I said it) |
| it’s like a midnight moon, from night to afternoon (noon) |
| get cooked up, like coke in a spoon (spoon) |
| protect your body from a? |
| shot, from my fuckin’shooty |
| layin’it down, the road dog Hussein, Kadafi |
| cuttin’ya ear to ear, fittin’these niggas head gear |
| like I’m county bound, wilin’from to tear to tear |
| shootin’and popluting, ya atmosphere |
| wit crates and waste, waitin’through the fuckin’state |
| tryin’come up in this world, cuz it’s money to make |
| laid to rest forever, you wanna do rap under ground? |
| so maybe six feet, will make the raps better |
| Chorus |
| Whats ya life worth? |
| more then a beef |
| when you got heat, and til scared of the streets |
| how you gonna make it wit ya body, lost and cause |
| wit cha soul, departin’slow, still shootin’for the stars |
| Some times, I feel that I’m a dead man walkin' |
| wake up and cold sweats, and see myself in a coffin |
| my life is hunted, I’m confused and fond |
| if my blood stop pourin', I regulate like I was born (2x) |
| Verse two |
| What the fuck you think this is? |
| hands up everybody spread’em |
| the first muthafucker move, dirty bird gotta wet’em |
| ain’t nobody gettin’out alive, if I don’t get that melt that I came |
| for |
| in plus a muthafuckin’ounce and bounce |
| cuz, I’m on that type of shit, nobody be knowin' |
| alias Hussein, anybody look to strange I’m blowin' |
| I got these thugs, and hotties knowin' |
| haulin’ass, wit Daz, and money bags, |
| and the ass of the shooty showin', play the? |
| I bring the heat to ya street, like Al Pachino and |
| Dinero, eliminate thirty muthafuccaz to zero |
| watch me, streets is black hockey |
| their’s rules in the game, that’s never let a cop top me Verse three |
| Back to back, doin’niggas like this |
| when I get pissed, the hollow point slugs rip |
| Thug Life, the type to swollow a bible |
| I’m a swollow clips, follow this nozle of the mack |
| so I don’t miss, much hesitation, not nuff retaliation |
| blame ya legislation, for puttin’me on probation |
| allagations facin’the nation, so poor I’m in the basement |
| ready for cold war, but I remain pateint |
| my sustained, station, name takin' |
| for my rocks steady, feel ya fuckin’brain shakin' |
| makin’a switch, from tricks to rich |
| clips to bricks, wit slow dipps |
| turn in to dough hits, look at slowly, folded |
| toted an broke click, you need a light? |
| I’m a type, that you can smoke dick |
| rock a crew, down to? |
| like Makaveli, crack frames like Hussein |
| jackin’planes, back to? |
| through the crack of the ice, I surface like a seal |
| new rap without, practice, do the rap without nervousness and chill |
| shot and spin I, wit you got is men I she top they droppin’did I, you got popped in the lid I rock fight pop hoes in ya retire, bullets scatter |
| through ya crewshea, devils desire |