| First time offense in a class full of felonies
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| Class A, class sheet passion is elatry
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| He had a rock, she done got knock selling trees
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| Hella feast still can’t pay the bill, Bellamy
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| It’s all relative, by pound sell a brick
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| Preach from the soapbox mask your intelligence
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| Pass through the system, ask for a settlement
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| Drop in a buck and get him in back in his element
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| Drop with the state throw a lock on the gate
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| Stop, stay stop while I drop on a snake
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| Wipe that, clean up relapse you’re right back
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| Getting bloods to the ring maybe he can fight back
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| Hustle for cheese, trap mice in a rap light
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| Ask once please, second time I don’t act nice
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| Blunt wraps trees digital’s in the bag right
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| Pistol slung by the clocks with the sag right
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| Ubi’s aware by the tootiem blare
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| That’s a life, dog do me a dare it’s all musical chairs
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| Y’all better move to the beat, suit with the beat, beat
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| By the music now you’re losing your seat, seat
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| The music stopped, the lady died
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| New
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| SchoolHustlers born in '85
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| If you play with dice you pay the price
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| Pray to Christ somebody come say they light
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| Cause when the music stop the lady died
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| New school hustlers born in '85
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| And if you play with dice you pay the price
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| Pray to Christ somebody come say they light
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| Street soldier, 5 star general
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| Everybody know we go hard for the chemical
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| Lock the block down, beat the strip up
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| For the things in the clubs who come to re-up
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| On the often, floss them stuntin' is a habit
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| If somebody got it then I mean he gotta have it
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| As well, he ain’t got a bag of himself
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| All he gotta do is collect the dough when it’s dealt
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| Back to him in the fat black human
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| Keep a post in the back with a crack pack on him
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| Black mask and a fully loaded Glock strapped to him
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| Cops assume they don’t wanna pour Glocks on 'em
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| Cause it will most certainly be a shootout
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| Gun hold pause don’t wanna bullet through law
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| New route on 'em when the SWAT picks him
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| Tear gas, no mask when the door kicked in
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| And then they rushed him, cuffed him
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| Put him to the pavement, read him his rights
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| Something to say save it, they told him
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| Whether you was cool or not
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| You paid your dues, the fools know the music stop
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| And the lady died
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| New school hustlers born in '85
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| And if you play with dice you pay the price
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| Pray to Christ somebody gon' say they light
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| Cause when the music stop the lady died
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| New school hustlers born in '85
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| And if you play with dice you pay the price
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| Pray to Christ somebody save them
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| You better pray for them
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| Street life weren’t made for them
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| Amen, Satan laying wait for them
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| No escape for them, celebrate for them
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| Pour the liquor out now, buy a case for them
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| They pass the pastor, hold a wake for them
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| No chiropractor gonna straighten them
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| 'Bout nobody got faith in them
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| Nothin' to hold them together like a safety pin
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| They don’t play to win
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| Seems drug money’s never enough
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| They stacked they chips up never settled them up
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| The house will take you, you don’t take the house
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| The mouse don’t chase the cat, cats chase the mouse
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| They dig up in your pocket, scrape them out
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| So like Diddy Venage you can hate them now
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| But you can’t stop, won’t stop the music
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| 'Til the Glock go click-clack (pah! pah!)
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| Lyrics by: IrvDaPhenomenal |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Musical Chairs, artist - Ubiquitous. Album song Matter Don't Money, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп