paroles de chanson Backstreets - 20-2-Life

What up doe?
The Big Time MuthaLoad just landed
And we ain't from this fuckin' planet
20 2 Life in the motherfuckin' house
Killa Hoe and that nigga Black
Handle your business fool

Robbed of life in South Park but it still pays me
Dope to bucks 'cause my daddy never gave a fuck
To see a nigga strugglin' down on his knees
All I had to look up to was the Backstreet O.G.'s
So I battered myself and raised myself to be
A holder, a folder, a money makin' ghetto soldier
And I had to make sure that I was wrapped tight
'Cause no money, no gain don't even sound right
So I'm out to beat the system just to make a lick
Too much cost, so I'm bumpin' niggas off and shit
Lookin' out for number one
A victim of the ghetto so I'm packin' a fuckin' gun
Holdin' up liquor stores and robbin' them white folks
Smokin' Swisher Sweets and wearin' them black locs
Not givin' a damn about the next nigga shit
Jack move after jack move, it slowly becomes a habit
I took many lives, looked in many eyes before I bust 'em
But, they didn't go so now I can't discuss 'em
The clientele and juice is mine so I hold up
The title 'cause it's vital to them back streets I sold up

Ayo I'm up for parole, now I gotta pimp a hustle
A nigga used to flip 'em now I gotta work my muscle
Yeah, straight chin checkin', rockin' yo' grill
Another ten seconds, shockin' hoe, kill
'Cause these are the ways of a jackin'
Them Backstreet O.G.'s got to keep that paper stackin'
Killa Hoe and Black be on a crack-free jack spree
Them back streets make a motherfucker wanna pack, G

Comin' up in the back streets, the next G was straight me
The shit that I buck with, niggas couldn't fuck with
O.G.'s stayin' loc'd up, always packin' they fuckin' heat
They bring that shit to war in them South Park back streets
So nigga beat your feet for the hot spot
The Glock you got sudden death so it's shot for shot
A vision of street life is all you can think about
From cut to cut, takin' nuts, we can shoot 'em out
Buckin' 'em down, leavin' no motherfuckin' evidence
So the laws can't arrest me for this crazy shit
Young ass nigga meetin' ends by a fuckin' thread
Aggravated related murder, two shots to the fuckin' head (Buck buck!)
A gangsta, gangsta, soldier with the spiked wind
You go toe-to-toe like a motherfuckin' viking
My nuts to the ground and my heart made of concrete
Road to no return down a dead end street
Never put my hustle or my Glock down
Bustin' motherfuckers in the game until they put me on lockdown
Buckin' out a back street, belong to Mr. Money Maker
'Til another G can take me to the undertaker

A nigga's out on parole but I gotta pimp a hustle
A nigga used to flip 'em now I gotta work my muscle
Shit, straight chin checkin', rockin' yo' grill
Another ten seconds, shockin' hoe, kill
'Cause these are the ways of a jackin'
Them Backstreet O.G.'s got to keep that paper stackin'
Killa Hoe and Black be on a crack-free jack spree
Them back streets make a motherfucker wanna pack, G

As the days go by, my life has changed
'Cause livin' your life out in these streets ain't no fuckin' game
A victim of the back streets, casualty of reality
Laws that gaffle me, these niggas wanna battle me
Ever met a back street nigga with some back street nuts
Pullin' them back street triggers on the back street cuts?
'Cause I made way for myself, I had to bogart
Pull hoe cards, I couldn't be faded 'cause I was raised hard
Never had this or that, all I really had was pity
Gleamin', I'm dreamin' of thoughts dyin' in my fuckin' city
So if you're hard, hit the trials like, root it out
Get the nuts to be a man, nigga, straight shoot it out
Prostitutes servin' niggas on every block
Static to the bushes, pimps pullin' triggers on the Glocks
'Cause I was born and raised and my soul will never die or rot
My name will still remain by all the niggas that I shot
But when it's my time to die, death I'll never cheat
But my momma just lost her little boy to them back streets

Up for parole and I gotta pimp a hustle
A nigga used to flip 'em now I gotta work my muscle
Punk, straight chin checkin', rockin' yo' grill
Another ten seconds, shockin' hoe, kill
'Cause these are the ways of a jackin'
Them Backstreet O.G.'s got to keep that paper stackin'
Killa Hoe and Black be on a crack-free jack spree
Them back streets make a motherfucker wanna pack, G

Yeah, check this out
This Point Blank, comin' straight outta South motherfuckin' Park
Down with 20 2 Life
That's Black and Killa Hoe bitch
Y'all can't fuck with this Big Time style
'Cause we in here, yeah
I'ma send this out to my brother 38, that nigga on lock