Young Guns - It's the Life lyrics

[Young Chris] Yo a yo everybody name brand Me I was same pants, same top Broken hot dogs out the same pot Since a buck I been packin weapons Only strappin n***as do when they s**in Airheads in they crew is just yes men My music and my shoot I perfect in I can't afford to lose I'm destined And hit that road collect tryna hop up Outta the hood, n***as frown they see me pop up Get locked up and they still with the coppers Give them something from them choppers I got filled with the coppers Leavin them gaspin need ox call the doctor Raw and uncut no mask know who shot ya Try and tell 'em chill for real but they don't listen though Till the 4-5th come and kiss 'em under the missle toe And thats the last time I'mma remind y'all Next time I'm creepin up in something behind y'all [Chorus] It's the life Just livin it right Shoot first and don't think twice And homey if the price is right n***as'll get at you Bout who draw the fastest Casket or the ashes [Young Neef] Yo it's lovely when you squeezin them Ugly when you receivin them And ya peeps goin crazy in the receiving room A gun like a lung you gon need more than one This for every block in te ghetto from where I'm from I started off a 9 or 10 runnin with my step-pop Learn how to collect from n***as and set up shizzop Never buy hard from him, I learned to cook rock Summer time blizzock, winter time shizzop Let a smoker rum 'em in All they want is 3 for 10 Give up that pa**word before you get the f** in 'Fore we get the buckin Leave 'em where they stand at Respect we demand that Now tell me where them grams at Stack rubberband wrapped the street still in me Got me a squadda with a driver, a souped up hemi Be happy you in my presence I can't give you a penny Cause this n***a only tough when that sh**'s up in em n***a [Chorus] [Pooda Brown] Yea ain't nothin soft about me But n***as they doubt me So I'mma have to run through they alley Get red off of they bount me Toss the gun n***a I'm outtie But n***a I'm rowdie But common sense plays a bigger part of me I'm Pookie when it comes to the Uzi I just be callin me (Mr. Brown) Not Bobby, Foxy, or Nino It's Pooda baby the Ruger baby'll clean the scene though Excuse me ladies don't do it lately But I'm doin my thing though The crib 24 hours n***a the hook a seno You lil n***a soft till that ' nana empty And he not dead dot on his head like he a Indian It's trainin day n***a wake up early For we be in ya crib burners wake up Shirley Cabinets and the bed n***a check that thoroughly I need that cooked up cookie homie And that story Whooo [Chorus] - 2X