Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Soldier's Paradise, artist - Mob FigazDate of issue: 15.06.2009
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Soldier's Paradise |
| A soldiers paradise |
| You can’t fuck with that |
| Smoking robalaids for hop |
| Now I’m hooked, I can’t stop |
| Twist a chop, hop in a 500 drop |
| With the big homie Bo loc drive slow |
| I got the four benz I’ll be the twins on me |
| Peeling 80 off the Alize |
| Time to put in work |
| Knocking now watching where I’m aiming out the candy gray Mercedes |
| Dam near going crazy in these savage last days |
| Busting the suckas on sight' a soldiers paradise, a soldiers paradise |
| Now it’s the Hustlah nigga I like to light ya’ll |
| But still I dwell a soldier’s paradise |
| Hustlah kill cops |
| We ain’t care about they whereabouts |
| We operate dee |
| Poppin' and keepin' the 5 on dubs |
| Smash into the club |
| Vests on our chests cuz there ain’t no love from the other side |
| They hate on ya’ll niggas cuz they get the scrilla |
| Make it multiply |
| Fuck them broke niggas |
| Mob Figaz increasin them homicides |
| Packing them choppers like baby mama’s cry |
| A soldier’s paradise |
| A muthafuckin' soldier |
| 25 trying to have mail |
| Swimming through the hood |
| Like a big whale, big daddy |
| Like a mobster eating lobster at the penthouse |
| Trying to have a million or two, no doubt |
| Bathgate got the clout nigga forever in or out |
| We blow yo brains out |
| CD’s, slang from the bay to the south |
| Ate off waited like a gangster at his house |
| A soldier’s paradise sip in this game and pay the price |
| It’s my life or your life and nigga I’m the shit |
| So I take yours quick |
| Won’t even think to load the clip |
| And that’s the way it is the way we live our life |
| A soldier’s paradise |
| Selling yay to survive |
| Fresh and kayta by my side |
| Mob figas steady mobbin' |
| When it’s time to ride |
| When it’s time to ride |
| Heard it was major league, duck tape keys and mob thugs |
| Crooked detectives, made men, and a paid judge |
| Them Mob Figaz |
| Major pain is steady mobbin' |
| Going chaotic |
| Exotic hoes and exotic pros |
| You stacking seven figures, gold bars |
| And stop rhymes |
| We on our own bank |
| Swiss accounts worth real estate |
| The life of luxury and bitches feeling me, bitches feeling me |
| It’s only one ways in nigga, no ways out |
| I’m sworn in |
| It won’t leave till I’m popped up and carried out |
| Smoked the snitches |
| Trust none of the bitches |
| Dig all the ditches for those that didn’t listen |
| Ugh stay G off hennessey and weed |
| Bathgate hit the D. A |
| So we ain’t sweated by the P.D.'s |
| Mob Figaz not your ordinary niggas |
| Squeeze the automatic triggas |
| Made millionaire figaz |
| A soldier’s paradise that' always bearing a life long gone |
| And I was lookin' at my niggas telling me to hold on |
| I’m almost gone |
| I cried a few |
| Won’t raise my tone |
| I’ll blaze the chrome |
| Bust back at a nigga with the gauge it’s on |
| His face is gone |
| We got ahead the chase is on |
| In a paradox this ain’t paradise |
| I swear this life’s been fucked up from the start |
| Half heart, half money nigga I paid my part |
| Now where’s paradise |
| till fade |
| Soldier, soldier living in a soldier’s paradise |
| Better watch your back |
| They out to get your scratch |
| In this game it’s do or die |