Solomon Childs - Throw My Life Away lyrics

[Intro: Solomon Childs] Yeah... Staten Island... the triz-oops S. Childs! You know? That's right Not for you f*ggot motherf**ers, anyway You heard me? f** ya'll, that's right Not too much to live for, n***a Yeah, get in they a**, son! [Chorus 2X: Solomon Childs] Never been concerned with names I ain't try'nna go up in flames And I ain't try'nna go insane Now, 'fore you motherf**ers throw my life away [Solomon Childs] Welcome to Wild West Brighton, the only borough in New York k**in' Rasco, I paint a bloodbath like Pica**o Staten Island G.I., in the p**y, knee high You'se have now been awakened out the coma By the son of a wounded soldier Motherf**ers is dead, smell the aroma That's federal crime, regulators Known to spend a pretty penny with the gun dealers I'll sneak up on your b**h a**, broad day like the k**ers We get emotional, n***a, don't get scared now, n***a I'm home now n***a with weight like Bonecrusher And I Ain't Never Scared, homey, I'll have ya b**h a** Wheeping and bending down, homey So dress warm, cause the casket, look like it get lonely Straight forward, music for thugs, bloods, crips and k**ers Try'nna reach us on receivers, Nexus, I come equipped with four fifths That'll give you a seizure, literally, dog, give you a seizure [Chorus 2X] [Solomon Childs] Live amongst snakes and vultures, collateral damage Desert eagle in the hosters, time to rebuild With family superstars on FBI's wanted posters f** a bodyguard, I'm purchasing a pair of twin toasters And for the record, there's pork in Hostess With so many trials, I'm try'nna stay focused N.W.O., f** the world, New World Order Easy n***a, give me order, worth the blood Hold it down, twenty four/seven, and listen pa' Ain't nothing to gain, we got unlimited guns And just cause I'm a pusher, daddy, ain't nothing stopping my bankfunds Guerillas with magnums, listen, get a hole in my paper Or find yourself slumped over, gargling blood like Bill Cosby's son Nothing to lose, parolee on the run, for sure Read about it, in the Metro section, all eyes on the prophet Ya'll n***as better watch the prophet [Chorus 2X] [Outro: Solomon Childs] Yeah, for sure, n***a Yeah, you heard him, that It's gonna be a lot of slow singing The flower bringing, my burglar alarm starts ringing Motherf**er