Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Win Or Loose, artist - Rappin' 4-Tay. Date of issue: 11.09.2000
Song language: English
Win Or Loose |
| The Bay Area, the yay-yay |
| That’s right, fo' flavors |
| Rappin' 4 Tay |
| It’s for them suckers, whodi |
| You baller blockin' |
| Mad cause the foes poppin' |
| Six foes hoppin', got the whole world poppin', collaz! |
| Milluem Dots, mo' ice than eskimo |
| Motherfucking money strong, y’all got the game wrong |
| Four scale pimpin' whodi, wrist glistenin' |
| I know you whisperin', but SUCKA I ain’t listenin' |
| Heard she pick the Wheezy up |
| Cause she back that ass up |
| Got a pocket of hand-cuffs and wrote the pony so tough |
| Tell me why you’re mad at me |
| I know you thinkin' breezy, creepin' to the heezy |
| On the unn in the beezy |
| The bay, for those that don’t know |
| It’s so equsit, come and pay a visit |
| Please believe it, don’t miss it |
| Exhibits, double 0 G’s like fo' cheesy |
| Forty fines for relly in the home with mack sheezy |
| But leave your women and your troubles behind you |
| We mackin' for a livin', it’s only a right that I remind you |
| From beanies to Bossolini’s we used to struggle |
| Surpise rapper forty eyes all my dogs bubble |
| Somebody’s gotta win, but now, somebody’s losin' |
| Strikeless hitch-hikin' while these ballers out and crusin' |
| He rose a bucket, he rose a Beamer acrunk, shoo! |
| (shoo) |
| Somebody’s gotta win, somebody’s gotta lose |
| Somebody’s gotta win, but now, somebody’s losin |
| Strikeless hitch-hikin' while these ballers out and crusin' |
| He rose a bucket, he rose a Beamer acrunk, shoo! |
| (shoo) |
| Somebody’s gotta win, somebody’s gotta lose… |
| Everybody claimed they got it locked like prison bars |
| From the North, to the South, to the East, to the West |
| All us playas livin large |
| Workin' on your opponent, workin' on it too much, you dreamin' |
| This shit you see on these videos ain’t always what it seems |
| Life is based on game, and game is based on witch dot |
| Trippin' off what the next man got |
| And get your grip |
| Remember, love don’t love nobody but we love the way it feels |
| And let it be a good damn thing, if love can pay the bills |
| Got you in my zone now, shoot them crooks now |
| Now I’m booked out on my own now, it’s goin' down, platinum bound |
| Here we go again two nappy heads in they plot (plot) |
| Dog, you be surpised with all these capers I be spottin' |
| Thats why murder rates increase, it should be peace |
| But now, who am I to speak when all I did my youth was creep? |
| (creep) |
| Duckin' it dodge to my so-called homeys, they phoney |
| Tryna get me, tryna hit me |
| I’m takin' that sucka with me before he split me |
| If you came where I come from, YOU KNOW WHERE I’M COMIN' FROM |
| Takin' so many chances, livin' life on the run |
| No fun, espcially for a playa situation, get critical |
| Murder one and that’s pitiful but yet it’s soblentioul |
| Way beyond your knocks fool, peep fool, check the ??? |
| Death ain’t got no date and no time, dont never go away |
| But playa-haters gon' hate on how much money you make |
| Because, money makes the world go round |
| Livin' life like ???, this is cabbage |
| With hundred stick situation, so savage |
| So tragic, need a hot meal in my baby’s belly |
| Remenise no hard times in my pen in my selly |
| I ain’t tryna go back, cause backwards ain’t part of my PJ |
| I need that might dollar to survive in these ghetto streets |
| Them devils want me isolated, like chicken drawers |
| I’m tryna get mine (mine) |
| I hope you get yours (yours) |
| I hope you get yours, get it, get it |
| Yeah, nigga, stop baller blockin' |
| And keep them collas poppin! |
| Please believe it, oh boy! |
| 4-Tay for the Bay |
| What’cha say? |
| Hahahahaha |