| No mothafuckin mercy for tha new millennium
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| It’s Victory or Death
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| I’m tha Twista in this bitch
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| Mothafuckaz talkin 'bout styles and shit
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| And who bit what and who made what
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| Nigga fuck all y’all styles
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| I’m finna set this shit off like this here
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| Chitowns murderous mob gothic
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| Hard knock it give me tha mothafuckin ammunition I’ll cock it Respected like i’m one of Gods prophets
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| Gotta put it down for legit ballaz and you don’t think
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| That i’ll rock it annihilate that nigga
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| 'Cuz like a lamb I was sacrificed for this verbal murder religion
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| Imprisioned by my hunger to succeed
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| By the heart I be driven
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| No shakin, no shiverin, get your shit to bleed
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| Reciting street literature, shall i spit tha creed
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| Now who them mothafuckaz talkin 'bout bitin
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| Go get me the pump-out of my trunk-I'm finna buss
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| Y’all better run punk
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| Fuck where you got your style from I be the one
|
| Rippin the track and I’m murderin
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| I’m in the middle of killin 'em off when the guns dump
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| With a young pump two to the brain don’t even harm me You fuckin every party, you wont even startle
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| You’the harder crew of lyrical giants
|
| Turnin mothafuckaz like u to microscopic particles
|
| To hype, to stop it the modules on cruise control
|
| Ride out on these niggas-bitches-ho's
|
| Ain’t takin no titles I instantly bruise your soul
|
| Talkin that shit to me- trigger vicious flows
|
| Get to rippin my clothes and start snappin like I’m
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| Sniffin shit up the nose, and catchin convulsions
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| Till i’m trembling no surrendering start shootin and
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| Knockin mothafuckaz out like Benalyn
|
| Reminiscin’on that adrenaline
|
| Oh, now you rememberin
|
| Overdose 'em on poisonous poetry from the west to the wild y’all
|
| Gangbagin like Gotti, rockin tha party
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| Straight up shockin your body doin it Kami Kaze style y’all
|
| Hook 1:
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| Cause it’s Victory or Death nigga, better stay out the way
|
| When my adrenaline pumpin or you can get a.(click-clock-blast)
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| Die mothafucka die!
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| Ain’t no makin me bleed cause i’ve got family to feed
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| It’s (repeat)
|
| Hook 2:
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| I would rather die before i cant prosper I’m a mobsta
|
| Won’t stop ballin, because it’s meant to be,
|
| It’s Victory or Death I gotta hustle till i’m gone
|
| To all the folks and the lords.
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| The bloods and the crips and every ward lets roll
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| You gotta go- for what you know
|
| If it’s retaliation get low
|
| When you get to the calico let it flow
|
| Make these niggaz know in the door
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| Make a mothafucka bleed for what you need
|
| Cuz the familys gotta eat in the last days it’s hatred and greed
|
| Luv to the Gov’s, B.M.'s, Field marshals, elites and the chief
|
| Soldiers we better take heed and realize
|
| Signs of the times, stand by yo 9,
|
| Watch out for tha haters and write yo’rhymes
|
| But the industry is set up to fuck u so u better be on the grind
|
| Don’t be one of the blind gotta stay alert
|
| And put in work cuz time is almost up Twistas, Hurricanes, and Volcanoes erupt
|
| So we can’t stop the struggle,
|
| I’m killin my enemy, breakin 'em off and not givin a fuck.
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| And I pray to the Lord my soul to keep
|
| When i go to the sky
|
| Thank you from savin me form a torturous life of hell,
|
| But hile I’m here I’m straight legit ballin until I die
|
| Lets better these years, feel the blood sweat and the tears
|
| Organize, I’ll sit back and smoke a Philly witcha
|
| Never scared of my peers, I only got federal fears
|
| And I’m known to put it down for my city nigga
|
| And when we get full of this indo
|
| Hydroponics and Chronic lock up ya doors and tha window
|
| Better go and call up your kinfolks
|
| Cause the riders that’s down with this mob
|
| Will murder when the wind blow
|
| Don’t know what you info
|
| We bring terror in this Apocalyptic era of Armageddon we headin in And the only way we can survive is if we come hard
|
| And strive to be gods instead of men!
|
| hooks 1&2 |