Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Army All By Myself, artist - June SummersDate of issue: 07.11.1999
Song language: English
Army All By Myself |
| I’m a army all by myself |
| A soldier if nothing else |
| An army (I ball) and I want it all (I want it all) |
| Them O.G.s that brought us up |
| Them young boys that’s coming out |
| The wars speak won’t stop with the call (won't stop with the call) |
| Look, I’m from the hood, won’t never turn my back on it |
| Got balls tryin' to make it with this rap homie |
| And the boy get his hustle on |
| Keep my 45, I don’t need no muscle homes |
| Got the heart of a hundred soldiers |
| Got my town on my back, and it feels like a hundred boulders |
| Now that’s pressure, the boy never fold with it |
| Serve you a dish, look nigga I’m cold with it |
| In the bricks with my 'G'-double 'O'-'N's |
| Mack 10 loaded im my 5-double 'O'-benz |
| Ridin' on my enemies, got no time for friends |
| All about business, got my eyes on ends |
| Homies said they’re your homies, some niggas pretend |
| Forget about your ass, when you hit that penn |
| Jay Rock and Nipsey, yeah we out to win |
| Red and blue make green, bitch niggas hating |
| Look, our city never quite shook off |
| The recipes of Ricky Ross |
| Couple of niggas rolled, but most just took a loss |
| While the real bosses passed bills in city hall |
| Legislate the law for the niggas that cookin' raw |
| The razor blades and rocks get cut on fine china |
| My blocks economics like the beers |
| The black man’s sacrificial land for the concept |
| A land based on the false prospect of progress |
| For instance |
| Look, my niggas crooked though it seems |
| My every single thoughts caught up in collectin' cream, a made nigga |
| Picture me dyin' in the blaze of gunfire |
| Will not retire till I’m paid till I reach the pie |
| When we ride we fly by bitches blow me kisses |
| Niggas from Compton to Brooklyn come on get your riches |
| From Crenshaw to 1−2-5 and do or die |
| Rollin' with niggas from Long Beach to Long I |
| I’m heartless now cause my heart froze |
| Once I commence my show I rip apart foes |
| Now I got one nation just a crooked compilation |
| Just the inner bullshit let’s get back to money makin' |
| Tell them bustas that I rolled on controllin' a house |
| My shit’s so wicked when I flip niggas closin' they mouthh |
| Them cocoa brothers, Buckshout the beady eyed thug |
| Greg Nice, LS, Asu, sure show a nigga love Outlaw! |