Caviar - Till I Die lyrics

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Caviar - Till I Die lyrics

[EIHT] Geah Thug sh**, n***a G's in the Y-2-K Hey, what can I say? (geah) Hoo-Bangin's official, n***a And right now we gon' do some of that thug sh** for that a** (k**a) Geah, that's makin' me wanna do some of that evil sh** (West Side!) Check it out [EIHT] Feel a little gust of wind so I jet This real n***a dwells from Compton, no sh** Thugs town, right now car jacks and sales County bus rolls through - n***as trips to jail What the hell won't trade it, high cla** can't fade it Out of town trips with pigeons is how we made it Y'all n***as 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 n***as must be gay, smilin' and shakin' How this b**h 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, k**, k**, k** Steel is my reputation, caps get peeled Front line n***a for dollars is my n***a But I'm kinda fast when they spit the 9 triggers Till my dying day I lay away Till my very last breath, n***a, I swear to make you pay Guilty conscience? Never me! Last night n***a done caught a felony Jealousy try to approach, wanna promote Then provoke through gun smoke, watch out, loc! Shake down cause these n***as f**in' 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' n***as 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, n***a?) Time to elevate the game and turn it up a notch And bust on the muthaf**in' 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 ho in a 6-4 blowin' doja while we swervin' Keep that off the hood, greed and determination in my eye, n***a Be my piece of the pie, n***a, so I ride until I die,n***a Chorus...