paroles de chanson Till I Die - MC Eiht
[Eiht]
Geah
Thug
shit,
nigga
G's
in
the
y-2-k
Hey,
what
can
I
say?
(geah)
Hoo-bangin's
official,
nigga
And
right
now
we
gon'
do
some
of
that
thug
shit
for
that
ass
(killa)
Geah,
that's
makin'
me
wanna
do
some
of
that
evil
shit
(west
side!)
Check
it
out
[Eiht]
Feel
a
little
gust
of
wind
so
I
jet
This
real
nigga
dwells
from
compton,
no
shit
Thugs
town,
right
now
car
jacks
and
sales
County
bus
rolls
through
- niggas
trips
to
jail
What
the
hell
won't
trade
it,
high
class
can't
fade
it
Out
of
town
trips
with
pigeons
is
how
we
made
it
Y'all
niggas
hate
to
get
a
dubs
and
rocks
Land
of
the
green
weed
and
cars
that?
hops
Don't
stop
- packin'
my
heat
and
beretta
Guarantee
my
hollows
goes
tough
through
your
leather
Whenever
the
rhyme
play
or
the
9 play
(ping
ping!)
It's
a
done
deal
when
I
hit
you
run
way
Y'all
niggas
must
be
gay,
smilin'
and
shakin'
How
this
bitch
greed
shakin'
up
money,
we
keep
mention
Never
fakin'
the
funk,
punk,
I
pops
the
trunk
4-5
hittin'
yo'
body,
takin'
a
big
chunk,
geah
Till
I
die
nuthin'
but
makin'
cheese
Till
I
die
tryin'
to
come
up
on
ki's
Till
I
die
nuthin'
but
guns
and
weed
Till
I
die
givin'
you
just
what
you
need
[Eiht]
Murda,
murda,
murda,
kill,
kill,
kill
Steel
is
my
reputation,
caps
get
peeled
Front
line
nigga
for
dollars
is
my
nigga
But
I'm
kinda
fast
when
they
spit
the
9 triggers
Till
my
dying
day
I
lay
away
Till
my
very
last
breath,
nigga,
I
swear
to
make
you
pay
Guilty
conscience?
never
me!
Last
night
nigga
done
caught
a
felony
Jealousy
try
to
approach,
wanna
promote
Then
provoke
through
gun
smoke,
watch
out,
loc!
Shake
down
cause
these
niggas
f**kin'
with
yours
Get
in
where
you
fit
in
even
if
it's
a
back
door
Or
the
window,
tie
up
the
ho',
where's
the
scope?
Trying
to
hand
me
you
popped,
you're
booked,
I
want
more
Lock
down
for
me
on
the
bus
downtown
Now
my
- outlook
is
a
sad-faced
clown,
geah
Chorus...
[Mack
10]
Till
I
die
is
gon'
be
h
double
o
B-a-n-g-i-n
fo'
sho'
Niggas
never
thought
that
they
would
ever
see
me
With
my
- eh
- blue
rag
buddy
from
the
c-p-t
We
be
kickin'
in
do's,
sweevin'
4-4's
Shovin'
30
clips
in
a
fully
mack
1-0's
So
as
the
clock
tickin'
- and
the
plot
thickens
We
be
juggin'
up
sherman
- and
rockin'
up
chicken
(What
you
need,
nigga?)
Time
to
elevate
the
game
and
turn
it
up
a
notch
And
bust
on
the
muthaf**kin'
neighborhood
watch
My
money
greener
than
a
clover
- in
a
4-6
rover
I
be
a
millionaire
thuggin
until
it's
all
over
I
take
a
ice
cold
40
of
cristal
and
what
they
servin'
Me
and
a
persian
hoe
in
a
6-4
blowin'
doja
while
we
swervin'
Keep
that
off
the
hood,
greed
and
determination
in
my
eye,
nigga
Be
my
piece
of
the
pie,
nigga,
so
I
ride
until
I
die,
nigga
Chorus...
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