| Only the good soldiers die young
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| To stay alive up in these streets you gotsta fly one
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| Fore the flamers make you famous aimin to ply one
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| Niggas is dyin over pie crumbs, the live ones
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| (Only the good die young)
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| Only the good soldiers die young
|
| Over chips they’ll leave you drippin witcha side numb
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| Come out the fort with your torches up and ride Dunn
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| No one survives with a shy gun inside slums
|
| (Only the good die young)
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| The bullies are back
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| Gettin the news that’s tragic, feuds are graphic
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| Moves through the traffic
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| Break any rules you lose your attic
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| Who’s in the habit of usin the static
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| Make somethin ooze out your cabbage
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| When dudes with ratchets, can pay your dues
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| Stools on the mattress, bruised and battered
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| Blown out your shoes and your fabrics
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| With Jakes searchin for clues and maggots
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| My crew is savage, we carry no dead weight
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| Bet they hide you when I slide kid
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| All my tools is packaged, and lose you faggots
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| Stay coppin them jewels with karats, so who’s the rabbit
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| Trix are for kids, in the buggy eye 6 on the strip
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| Strictly for big wigs, so tell me what this is
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| A nigga that’s bout his biz, a nigga that don’t forgive
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| A nigga that don’t renege, a nigga that bust a cig, rupture your ribs
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| Front and I’ll bring it to you 'xactly where you live
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| BGF surround the crib, throw a pound to the kid
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| Hit a fry when the good die young
|
| Only the good soldiers die young
|
| To stay alive up in these streets you gotsta fly one
|
| Fore the flamers make you famous aimin to ply one
|
| Niggas is dyin over pie crumbs, the live ones
|
| (Only the good die young)
|
| Only the good soldiers die young
|
| Over chips they’ll leave you drippin witcha side numb
|
| Come out the fort with your torches up and ride Dunn
|
| No one survives with a shy gun inside slums
|
| (Only the good die young)
|
| Yo it’s a whole city of animals
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| Cannibals, bloodthirsty niggas that hammer you
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| And handle you, shots makin you flammable
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| That’s what an evil man’s plan’ll do
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| Vandal you, candle you, dismantle you
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| Leavin your fam and crew, pan a few blocks
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| Bodies in camera view, for a grand or two
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| Land you on channel two
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| When niggas can’t eat, that’s what the fam’ll do
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| Leave you for the mantle, examine you
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| For the van to come transfer you
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| Too late to bandage you, too much damage to you
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| The coroners know how to manage you
|
| Down in they land they planted you
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| That’s what the cannons do, forever branded you
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| Spare cannoned you, abandoned you, rock you to sleep
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| Niggas surrounded you, death wish granted you, fan at you
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| Went to my hundred shot clip when they flip & throw a grand at you
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| Peel your shit open like a can of brew
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| Then they work from the mandible, havin you livin where the salmon do
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| The good die young, redrum, who left to take a stand for you
|
| Only the good soldiers die young
|
| To stay alive up in these streets you gotsta fly one
|
| Fore the flamers make you famous aimin to ply one
|
| Niggas is dyin over pie crumbs, the live ones
|
| (Only the good die young)
|
| Only the good soldiers die young
|
| Over chips they’ll leave you drippin witcha side numb
|
| Come out the fort with your torches up and ride Dunn
|
| No one survives with a shy gun inside slums
|
| (Only the good die young)
|
| You rock a hot bezel and catch a popped vessel
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| And shot vestibule; |
| you got testicles
|
| Beef bringing nigga get shot visible
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| Rock with the best of you; |
| then it’s back to the block
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| The blacktops we open up shop and clock decimals
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| Fake cops, scrape from the tea pot for residue
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| The foul slang liver (?) page, reach for that shit on your waist
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| Every killer in the place get hit in the face
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| Turn around, simmer down nigga, get in the safe
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| What you fear when the shots is blowin; |
| shed a tear for the one
|
| That caught one under the ear inside of his top popped open
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| It’s death for all niggas that left with the Glock smokin
|
| Came in with hot toast and left the whole spot soakin
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| Fuck y’all niggas not knowin, we make your seeds stop growin
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| Guerilla nigga, we keep rhymes flowin
|
| Bust a four pound, man down, found in the lot swollen
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| Drama brung, all inside the slum, the good die young
|
| Only the good soldiers die young
|
| To stay alive up in these streets you gotsta fly one
|
| Fore the flamers make you famous aimin to ply one
|
| Niggas is dyin over pie crumbs, the live ones
|
| (Only the good die young)
|
| Only the good soldiers die young
|
| Over chips they’ll leave you drippin witcha side numb
|
| Come out the fort with your torches up and ride Dunn
|
| No one survives with a shy gun inside slums
|
| (Only the good die young) |