Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Miz Me, artist - RBL Posse. Date of issue: 25.09.2000
Song language: English
Miz Me |
| Tryin’to make a dollar out of fifteen cents |
| How come when I was down you wasn’t brown nosin' |
| See it’s a fucked up life that I’m livin’in |
| I slang cola cause I didn’t have no dividends |
| My baby mama stressin’she don’t wanna slang dope |
| The ghetto’s tryin’to kill me which way should I go Now I’m on the corner takin’penitentiary chances |
| Even though there’s marks on my turf that can’t stand me I think to myself, when should I leave |
| Too say fuck em’nigga till ya hit my weed |
| I guess I’m a G about my scrilla cause they bashin' |
| Crews know that P is quick to put em’in that casket |
| The game got me streesin’but the game gon’stress out |
| Even though the task just raid a nigga’s house |
| Took a loss in the game tryin’to bubble up Find the P deep in the grind slangin’dope fiends double ups |
| And pretty soon I’ll be back to a whole thing |
| If I had to do it again I’d probably do the same thing |
| Man it ain’t nothin’but a thang to let ya nuts hang |
| Cause in this game a million niggas tried to fuck the same thang |
| I know it be like on, on my block |
| Niggas must be on the cell while another’s on the short stop |
| It won’t stop and it won’t quit |
| Tell me another quick way for a nigga to check a grip, shit |
| I’m kind of in a rush, it’s kind of like a must |
| To get some, in God we trust |
| Bein’broke sure ain’t no joke |
| I barely got enough money to buy me a whole loaf |
| Niggas be spendin’money like records |
| So I move from Mike Chester to Girbaud pocket |
| Cause a lesson is a nigga will shoot |
| No playin’hoops, he ain’t gon’never see no signs or no quick loot |
| Dank costs ten and the drey costs five |
| So I gots have more in my pocket than a nickel and a dime, bitch |
| Gold fronts in my mouth, hella dope and got my bags tight |
| Bitches on my dick cause they know the P rags are tight |
| But I ain’t trippin’off no hoochies with no lil’skirt |
| I’d rather deal with them turks, puttin’in work |
| They caught up in some dirt |
| Cause I’m the Ice Cream Man droppin’off hella loads |
| Vanilla, stawberry, cherry bitch I even got Rocky Road |
| Take yo pick, I know you dope fiends wanna lick |
| But that’s gon’cost you twenty bones in case you wanna hit |
| I love you, you love me But this ice cream don’t go for free |
| It’s a ten, twenty, fifty, hundred dollar sack or cone |
| And if you ain’t spendin’bring yo broke ass on Golds on my vehicle, fools they can’t see me though |
| Tens for twenty, that’s plenty meet me at the liquor store |
| Fiends want credit but cha’know I can’t fade ya When you get cha’cash together call me on my pager |
| I’m stressin’off the game, I barely gets sleep |
| I just had to bail my lil’partner last week |
| In and out of aves gettin’chased by the 5−0 |
| Gettin’my hustle on, a way of survival |
| And if I get caught I got play |
| But I ain’t goin’out without two stones to the head |