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Текст (слова) песни: MC Eiht - Till I Die



[eiht]

Geah

Thug shit, nigga

Gs in the y-2-k

Hey, what can I say? (geah)

Hoo-bangins official, nigga

And right now we gon do some of that thug shit for that ass (killa)

Geah, thats 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 wont trade it, high class cant fade it

Out of town trips with pigeons is how we made it

Yall niggas hate to get a dubs and rocks

Land of the green weed and cars that ? ? ? ? hops

Dont stop - packin my heat and beretta

Guarantee my hollows goes tough through your leather

Whenever the rhyme play or the 9 play (ping ping!)

Its a done deal when I hit you run way

Yall 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 kis

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 Im 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 fuckin with yours

Get in where you fit in even if its a back door

Or the window, tie up the ho, wheres the scope?

Trying to hand me you popped, youre 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 dos, sweevin 4-4s

Shovin 30 clips in a fully mack 1-0s

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 muthafuckin neighborhood watch

My money greener than a clover - in a 4-6 rover

I be a millionaire thuggin until its 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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