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do or die - murders, pimps + thugs lyrics
(chorus 2x: do or die)
we the murderers, pimps plus thugs
we the murderers, pimps plus thugs
we the murderers, pimps plus thugs
we the murderers, murderers, murderers
(ja rule)
growing up in the ghetto
with that new york state of mind
i realized that night, that my future was crime
hustlin dimes was my trademark
soon as that blunt spark
i, inhale, exhale, took my next sale
daily routine, get up, wash -ss, get cream
cop that first tear on my slick sixteen
i seen more bricks and cash and sh-t
got greedy, and weed up with that counterfit
cuz pa-pi’s gettin sloppy, and kinda fiendly
stupid n-gg-, you been trading thoughts with your enemy?
murderous, grimey, from where? hollis queens
woodhull, got it all from thugs and fiends
i need cream, so i strap the nine to my waistline
grabbin oz, keys to the three
hundred gs n-gg-
bulletproof vest to eliminate stress
ha, who the best?
(chorus 2x)
(do or die)
don’t get close to our side if you ain’t from new york
you screamin “ride or die” or “pimp till you die”
you figurin you a murderer, put your guns in the sky
make them see em, cuz every n-gg- we f-ck with has heaters
don’t get, stepped with these heaters when you hatin on these po-pos
don’t think for one time ja’s comin solo
it’s do or die, chicago collabo
neighborhood watch you from a block with a flock of thugs
ready to show some love
grippin with extra guns and clips
and worldwide all these n-gg-z know we love that sh-t
how hard we hit, we put you in your darkest pits
it’s do or die and ja rule n-gg-
murda for life
(chorus 2x)
(do or die)
can’t keep up with the paper chasin
gonna run up with these glocks and rob the bas-m-nt
two n-gg-z with glocks, c-ck, pop, drop, quit hastin
i’s put two in your b-tch -ss gettin hot with the casin
it’s kill or be killed in chi recognize what you facin
wh-r-s and pimps, hustlers, killers, and drug dealers
since a shorty been hollerin seeds with a plug in
two for ten, up on the block diamond cut griller
be em or see em motherf-ckers, be a hoe skrilla
iller noise state put through my blood
if n-gg-z got love it’s in my blood
run n-gg-z spittin hollows that’s followin sh-t
and killin n-gg-z that ain’t real, been hollerin sh-t
(chorus 2x)
(do or die)
better get gone, chrome by the hip bone
hit domes like pickles, it’s not to sit on
better get’cho pimp on ‘for the clips get sticked home
sit back til the tricks gone
then flash through the hood like you misunderstood
diamonds over get that wood
it’s all good see, low down four pound
full clips for showdowns, smoke weed and throw down
representin both towns, you don’t know now, better slow down
p-i-m-p flippin filty
cream stream dream, hennessy, tipsy
theres blood for the true thug, puttin weight in the po-pub
it’s nuthin, sit down and shut up, roll like that
then in the morn we ball like that
(chorus till fade)
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