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RU: 0-9 А Б В Г Д Е Ж З И К Л М Н О П Р С Т У Ф Х Ц Ч Ш Щ Э Ю Я
EN: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

Текст (слова) песни: The Click - Life

[Verse 1]
It`s the first of the month and my beeper is blowing
I can`t stop cause my cash is flowing
I`m baggin` em` up bustin` em` down quickly
Cause I got five brothers waitin` on me at Thrifty`s
I`m in the other bucket on the late night pursuit
With two kis and and forty ounce of brew
I ain`t trippin` cause my tags are legit
Ah shit, now them tats is on my tip
So I drops my brew, what the fuck am I to do (Pass the street to shake that fool)
So I smashed on my pedal and rolled down Golden Gate
And threw these motherfuckin` kis in the lake

[Verse 2]
Guess who comes through, it`s a fool
I gat tapped that ass, red dog, and boo
We kicks it on the Hill everyday
Slangin` rocks with glocks now we gots to get paid
The street life`s how I`m livin` and the po-po tryin` to get me
But they can`t catch up to a motherfuckin` philly
That`s how I`m livin` in the day
But when it comes night I packs a forty and an AK
Waitin` for some punk to jump so I can start to pop
And put some motherfuckin` holes in his drop
The watch his ass grasp, then I laugh
He shouldn`t have last so I taxed his punk ass

[Chorus]
Street life, because there`s no place I can go
Street life, it`s the only life I know
Street life, there`s a thousand lives a day
Street life, until you play your life away

[Verse 3]
A young brother in the game with my fame and glory
I`m really down for my pops and the hardcore stories
Mandatory is my money, ya best believe
Because I`m rollin` through ya town with gold tone D`s
Lookin` clean with my mug on mean
But in the ghetto it ain`t nothin` but dope fiends
I pull up on the turf not thinkin` of gettin` burnt
With a nine in the trunk it ain`t gon` be no funk
Serious about my mail, don`t give a fuck about a jail cell
Because I post bail and all hell breaks loose
Cause I got juice, though it seems to me
In reality the other man is out to get me

[Verse 4]
Forever on the run, that shit ain`t funny
And I ain`t never heard of no extra money
The ninety-eight cents, no food for less
I send a dope fiend to steal my Guess
The ghettos of a way where the players star
Where white men won`t, where white kids won`t
They say it ain`t cool and it`s bad for they health
And if ya hit magazine then break ya self
Cause that`s the rules man and don`t ask why
Either you slang, gangbang, or die
My only concern is to strive
Fucked up around in the street life

[Chorus]
[Verse 5]
The reason I ain`t do eighteen yet, check
Is because I got people praying for me, bet
I pays my ties even though the money`s filthy
Don`t wanna go to church because I feel guilty
The way of the street life is really quite scary
Thinkin` tomorrow man I might get married
So when I leave my pad I grab mt glock
And my bulletproof vest and my ski mask dock
On the gooch pal, I won`t be caught out of bounds
Can`t let these fools stop my life
So I strive, I might be about one eight
But in the mind I more like twenty eight
I see the po-po poppin` the brothers droppin`
Niggaz plottin` and children starvin`
All this shit in my face
I gotta get up out of this place
The middle of V ain`t enough see
A nigga feel like I gotta sell D
I share a room with six little brothers
Three to a bed fightin` over covers
The crack of dawn, I read the paper
A Jewish old lady said a nigga raped her
The finger always points at the black man
But not the whites, Filipinos, or Mexicans

[Chorus]

 

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