paroles de chanson Only Live Once - Lost Boyz
(Cheeks)
These
mothafuckas
made
it
this
way
I
show
′em
mine
?
Official
Queens
crack
stars
gettin
money
Rollin
trees
in
the
backwoods
Timberlands,?,
black
hoods
The
territories
rugged,
certain
bimbos
love
it
I
fuck
wit
cats?
Keep
my
Timbo's
covered
We
ride
around
in
the
streets,
kid
we
duckin
knicks
Money
power
wit
some
game,
kid
we
fuckin
chicks
The
hard
times
help
me
sharpen
up
We
be
in
Watts,
but
still
be
sparkin
up
Love
it
when
the
day
darken
up
My
life
is
like
a
movie,
big
guns
and
booze
play
a
part
I
came
through
to
display
an
art
Yo,
fuck
you
jealous
niggas
I
take
care
a
fam
and
I
lay
low
I′m
livin
kid,
I
got
the
money
plus
the
yayo
And
hold
a
heat
up
on
the
seat
because
it's
gettin
wicked
You
get
yo
dough,
I
get
my
dough
Let's
blow
so
we
can
kick
it
(Hook
- Mr.
Hezekiah)
2x
You
only
live
once
so
let′s
ride
Let′s
take
it
to
the
top
This
one
crew
you
can't
stop
(Street
Connect)
Yo
is
you
mothafuckas
out
a
yo
mind?
We
them
niggas
that
be
holdin
it
down
Half
of
the
reason
you
live
Other
fifty
percent
of
the
reason
you
frown
Behind
the
back
you
pop
shit
But
when
we
be
wavin
them
thangs
you
innocent
Cause
we
in
this
bitch,
Raw
Dogs
Is
you
askin
for
a
New
York
City
war
call?
We
keep
it
gritty
for
all
a
y′all
But
some
you
niggas
act
like
you
goin
through
menopause
And
that's
the
second
we
send
′em
to
morgues
Slay
'em
down,
get
in
them
drawers
Been
put
on,
what
you
tellin
me
for?
Look
at
′em
beggin
for
more
Either
they
yellin
or
givin
applause
Picture
livin
laws
while
we
got
x-cons
on
the
dance
floor
Goody
niggas
playin
the
wall
And?
bitches
rockin
hoodies
wit
razors
inside
the
sports
bra
We
told
y'all
but
ya
wasn't
tryna
listen
to
us
(Hook)
(Izzy
Dead)
Ever
since
the
day
I
was
born
my
lifestyle
been
real
Bloody
stories
on
blank
paper
is
what
my
pen
spill
My
men
still,
sellin
coke,
cooked
up
and
powdered
out
In
a
big
body
smoked
out,
shit
is
clouded
out
We
official
crack
stars,
bury
bodies
in
back
yards
You
neva
touch
nothin
Sayin
you
blast
niggas
and
clap
cars
I
get
a
back
massage
from
a
bad
European
And
switch
my
bird
every
season
And
I′m
rollin
up
my
treason
But
my
question
is,
give
me
one
reason
to
let
you
live
But
you
good
at
talkin
ya
way
out
a
shit,
I
be
you
is
So
I
sex
ya
wiz,
kill
you,
and
leave
ya
wife
left
wit
kids
Ghetto
black
widow
What
nigga,
my
mac
glitto
Attack
ya
hitto
It′s
like
pimp
talk
wit
a
limp
walk
And
crazy
dough
is
what
I'm
in
for
Somethin
you
bent
off,
but
couldn′t
touch
Scream
you
got
guns
but
wouldn't
bust
Never
fuck
wit
niggas
out
a
my
circle
I
don′t
trust
(Hook)
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