Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Conspiracy, artist - Onyx. Album song Shut 'Em Down, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 01.06.1998
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: A Def Jam Recordings Release;
Song language: English
Conspiracy |
Yo, yo but that shit ain’t mine nigga |
You know what? |
Get on the floor alright |
Yo man get the fuck off me Get down on the ground, and spread em out alright |
Yo, aight aight man! |
Get the fuck down on the ground man! |
Aight man! |
Now keep your ass on the floor. |
Yo who the fuck can I trust man? |
You can trust me man |
Everywhere I turn there’s danger God! |
Ah-hahahaha |
Yo I feel like the walls is closin in on me man! |
Ay, I am Stress |
Buggin man. |
ARRRRGH! |
Yeah, I got you where I want you |
Word up man |
Hehehe |
Ain’t got nowhere to go Son |
No you don’t |
Yo Chorus: Onyx |
These streets is tryin to kill me My best friend, could be my worst enemy, this game is deadly |
This ghetto might murder me, or lock me up Twenty-five to life, throw the key |
Verse One: X-1 |
Yo, yo You know what happens in the actions of the inner city tale |
When your thoughts fail and have you scared to death |
biting off your fingernails, not enough, numbers on the weight scale |
Got, niggaz cuttin throat just to make sales |
Even if it take the last of me I’ma fill my pockets to capacity |
Anything that takes cash, fuck job huntin |
Put on a face mask kid, I’m out to rob sum’in |
If you home or not, I put the chrome to your knot |
One shot to the side of your face, let me up inside of your place |
Gimme the funds up out of the safe |
Hit the fire escape, high-divin gates |
Flyin from Jakes, I’m dyin for paint |
Verse Two: Sonsee |
Yo, I’m caught up, stuck in the tangled web |
Where they’d love to see me dead, mail my mom’s my head |
So the tricolored silenced Rugar stay off safe |
To take off a face, just in case, a quiet lace |
Plottin, for your knot-and, your spot-and, your block-and |
anything else, you got-ten, hopefully you snake and rotten |
So eyes open, don’t sleep |
Cause once you do you goin deep, mo’money mo’heat |
Police, wanna brutalize me to death |
And my foes wanna see me lose all my breath |
Maybe friends, come wanna merk me for my beans |
And bitches that gave me skins, wanna watch my end |
Cut open my chest, and see my heart |
pump the last ounce of life -- for livin, it’s a price |
Til then, when it’s over, kamikaze |
Strictly, I’m takin all you motherfuckers with me! |
Verse Three: Clay the Raider, Sticky Fingaz |
When I die, I don’t want none of my niggaz to cry |
Just dress me in a black suit, and a black tie |
Pass me by to the darkest cloud in the sky |
No time to waste, we got the drugs in the briefcase |
We stickin up the whorehouse, we takin everything |
We want the pussies to the diamond rings |
You want the sun to shine? |
We want the rain to pour |
Official Nast’to put your body on the floor |
OH SHIT I’M HIT! |
I’M HIT! |
They just shot me in the stomach! |
UNNNGGGGGGHHHHH! |
*BLAM BLAM BLAM* *BLAM BLAM* Who want it who want it? |
Niggaz trying to kill me, and they caught me by surprise |
That’s when I blacked out, my life flashed before my eyes *glass breaking* |
My whole life I ain’t never give a shit |
My mentality was *clip cocked into gun* get shot or gimme a gam |
If the gun ain’t jam, I woulda bust you |
I don’t trust my own mother, how the FUCK I’ma trust you? |
I did some things that I sorta regret |
But I can’t bring them niggaz back kid they already wet |
As a kid I went to jail cause I sold crack |
I’m holdin trial in the streets cause I ain’t tryin to go back |
Oh SHIT! |
What happened?! |
Wait, now I 'member! |
And where my gun??! |
I musta dropped it when I jumped out that window |
I gotta make it to the B-M, and try to stop this bleeding |
I ain’t trying to die, I got mad blood spilt |
(Aiyyo there that nigga go! Kill him!) Oh shit! |
*BLAM* |
I left behind a widow and a bastard kid |
The streets was tryin to kill me, and it did |
Verse Four/Modified Chorus: Fredro Starr |
These streets is tryin to kill me That’s why I keep a Mac-Mil this shit is real to me This shit is deadly, this ghetto might murder me or lock me up for twenty five to life throw the key, I’m low key |
So niggaz don’t notice me, a half a key is worth |
more than a pound of weed, I die for my seed |
Kill for my family, fuck this world |
cause this world don’t understand me, I’m sick mentally |
I’m drinkin Hennessy, mixed with Tennessee |
Shit is stressing me, niggaz praying for the death of me But til they bury me When sixteen shots enter me Remember me your worst enemy |
Motherfuckers! |