Tragedy Khadafi - Live by the Gun lyrics

Tragedy Khadafi! The Foul Mahdi! Life's a b**h - we open her up like C-sections Pour liquor on the asphalt for my dogs restin' It's foul sport - you get iced with the Wesson Pay attention - my n***a, learn a lesson Rule one: never pull out guns and don't bust 'em Your dog can't look you in the eye, don't trust 'im Be the same n***as that'll split you like dutches Try to flame n***as when they get you in they clutches You talk like a gangsta, walk like a gangsta Watch for them haters - they tryin' to get your paper The streets is a foul thing, a wild thing You wasn't locked in Sing Sing - you just love to sting How you a thug n***a - and you scared of the bing? I'ma tell y'all n***as one thing (Ya heard me?) You was hot 'til we dropped and reduced your fever Heir to this thug sh** like Julius Caesar Chorus: All my convicts, felony thugs, forever on the run Live by the gun, die by the gun Where you eat food, snatch plate, wherever drama come Live by the gun, die by the gun When it jump off - make it pop, you be the only one Live by the gun, die by the gun In this game of life - play hard, you only got one Live by the gun, die by the gun Yo - every man bleed like I do, so why fear you? That bullsh** you throwin' at me - I can't hear you But what I throw back - something that you can feel Teflon emerge from steel - sh** is real A fishscale, verbally ill - no cut Hip-hop nearly lost its form until I struck Been rappin' since crack was packed in tall capsules Now I rock platinum chains and ice statues Guerrilla gat - combat rap - sh**'ll blast you I co*k back and squeeze - what you fools gonna do? Just a copy of Mahdi - graft like Yacub My n***as on 162 Makin' pie P.R. savage, Lincoln Hall in Comstock A flock of birds stash crib soon as you touch ground You know my homies gotta live, yo burn it down You know my homies gotta live, yo burn it down Chorus You either end up dead or some vegetables While we escape with the extraterrestrials 2-5 emba**y - now who next to lose? Mahdi, Khadafi, your highness will rule Carnivorous thug - digest your food It's like the Art of War volume two Underworld sh** Duct tape, kidnap rap, clap your girl sh** You got trees, then twirl it My n***as 'url wit' Iceberg velour suits and suede moccasins Air n***as out - deprive them of their oxygen My raps - blowin' the world off its axis Ignitin' like matches - burnin' the illest graphics In Morocco in the drop with the top low Me against the world - still I can't be stopped, though My hoes like to ride on top and rock slow I flame-throw - my chain glow like a rainbow Chorus