Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Rob And Vic, 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
Rob And Vic |
It’s a story about two brothers, Rob and Vic |
Grew up in the world alone |
God forgot about them, hmm |
Forced to fend for themselves |
In the Rotten Apples of New York City |
This story takes place, in 1993 |
How many nigs did we get so far? |
I couldn’t care to count |
Just snatch em up quick |
If he scream, I’ma put him out |
I put the heat to his face to SHUT HIM UP |
so I can dig him out |
Went in his pockets and got the cash in some big amounts |
I looked him dead cold in his eyes, *blast* without carin |
If money speak, that explain the voices I’ve been hearin |
You ain’t really have to kill him |
Yo God he moved -- but I lied |
Damn, there’s our sick stick-up turned homicide |
So? |
That’s the way our momma died |
Is you with me I’ma slide |
So we slid, had to get our gameplan together |
Cause this little bit of stickup loot ain’t lastin us forever |
Desperate, on the edge with no place to go We can’t go back to the hood we stuck up everyone we know |
Chorus: *sung* |
For the love of money, people will rob from each other |
For the love of money, people will steal from their mother |
For the love of money, people will kill their own brother. |
Now everytime I hear a fuckin siren, my heart skip a beat |
I’m paranoid, every face I see I think he after me Supposedly |
we was supposed to be gettin work from this large cat |
But since we know where he rest at -- we goin Bogart! |
Son frontin so hard |
Heard he had a hundred G’s alone on his Gold Card |
His crab wife showed me mad cash in her blouse |
She said he the mad stash at the house |
Couldn’t pass up a jooks like this anyday |
Anyway |
on our way there, I’m feelin bad vibes |
Yo kid don’t say that |
That’s when we bumped heads |
with vicks that we stuck from way back, up on Atlantic |
The way them niggaz lookin God they drivin mad frantic |
Yo don’t panic, trust me What? |
I jump back and bust em Shots through they windshield, they ain’t wearin shield |
Hit the kid behind the steering wheel *car horn* it’s the way I feel |
In a state to kill I wanna watch him DIE |
Wait and chill |
We got bigger fish to fry, two L’s later |
in a Bed-Stuy elevator, got off the fifth floor |
Water hit the skull, ready KICK THE DOOR |
off the hinges |
Bust shots right |
Only thing I saw was a nigga four-four |
His gun jammed |
He tried to run and, reach for a knife |
Shot him in the leg |
So think about your life |
and tell me where the loot’s at He said, I’ll tell you just don’t shoot black! |
With the sight of fear, dragged him down six flight of stairs |
to the basement, and in someway, he had a trap door in the pavement |
Smacked him with the gun, kicked him out the way |
Had to be at least 500 K Now hear come the bitch, talkin bout her share of the wealth |
So we put her and the husband out |
and we went for self |
Yo, we fuckin came off! |
Word |
The plan was splendid |
'Cept we got all this money, and can’t even spend it Shh, let’s disappear |
Yea yea |
And be outta this place |
So much dirt and shit we did it’s hard to show our face |
So we bounced out of town and went down to Miami |
Cause most those cats we crabbed was like family |
Now me and you beefin, nah it can’t be true |
It all started when all we had was just me and you |
Now a whole different person is what I’m startin to see in you |
'Member when we had the new Lex |
with the two Techs, rollin to the duplex, drinkin Stout |
Thinkin bout, what we gonna do next, we used to work tight |
Half-assed cars, down to dirt bikes |
Hopin everything will go right, with the snow white |
and in number spots that flow all night |
Up to this day it was all tight |
Man, FUCK THAT! |
You my little brother and we came out the same pussy |
but I’ma kill you, you dummy, you FUCKED UP MY MONEY! |
Nah, the money fucked YOU up Tryin to say the money changed me? |
What you think, I’m your brother, you got a gun in my face see |
What??! |
How can one tiny mistake, make you wannaerase me Fuck that! |
You cut a side deal, that’s why they raided the block |
Now how the fuck I’m 'sposed to know the undercover was a cop |
Son you been fuckin with them niggaz! |
Look just put down the gun and let this bullshit slide |
Nigga I ain’t puttin down SHIT |
I’m tellin you let’s just chill man |
FUCK THAT NIGGA! |
It don’t gotta be this way man |
WHAT NIGGA? |
IT GOTTA BE THIS WAY! |
IT DON’T GOTTA BE LIKE THIS MAN! |
IT GOTTA BE NIGGA! |
THEN GO AHEAD AND PULL THE TRIGGER! |
THINK I WON’T? |
FUCK YOU! |
YOU KNOW YOU AIN’T GON’DO IT! |
FUCK YOU! |
*gun blasts* |
Chorus cont. |
with — Don’t let money change you. |
— before fade |