Various Artists - All Out On My Own lyrics

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Various Artists - All Out On My Own lyrics

[Shyheim] Yo, what the deal? Criminals, what up? We're not born we're created From the streets And this goes out to all my thugs, criminals, ballers, hustlers Big up to self, Big up to self Get y'all weight up No diggity, No doubt G.P. Wu, Yo drop my sh** right now I gotta get my weight up f** eight balls I'm flippin kilos Did dirt so now I lay low from street foes Broke n***as and b**hes wanna take what I got Tell the jakes about my spots They mad cuz I make a lot From Monday through Sunday I see about a million Run with thugs that's down for k**in, civilians I'm thug related, pack nuff heat, they call me fire n***as fear my verbal technique cuz I'm Kaiser So say I represent the ghetto worldwide Bust techs, puff lye From A to Z's Doe or Die f** around and get lifted off this Earth Take my word for what it's worth I put that on the turf Chorus: [Shyheim] (Squig) {2X} I'm all out on my own, I'm goin out son I'm all out on my own, I'm goin out (dun) I'm all out on my own, I'm goin out (Like Patty LaBelle said I'm out on my own) [Shyheim] I'm all out on my own like Al Capone Cuz n***as want my dome, so I pack a 4 lb. chrome Stash it near my nuts in the front But keep it in arm distance cuz I'm gonna have to bust The first victim that comes too close to me and sh** My clips packed up thick legit and victed To go to war at any given time I gotta protect me and mine Before the damn flat line I'm still young but I'm growin up mad fast Treated like trash and dumped out on my a** No one understands me but me Nobody cares about how I feel but me So what I gotta do is do for me I wonder how that be goin all out for me I got mad problems but I try to deal wit em I wish that I could fight em And shoot the fear one wit em But the devil keeps on hawkin me My soul he wantin G But that sh** I can't see Chorus {2X} [Shyheim] I had many dreams of being a star in the NBA But they got thrown away when I saw them slingin yay I put the ball down, picked the ounce up, then I read up Now I'm 200 G's up and on my uptown To meet up with these big druglords from Cuba I don't trust em like a chickenhead so I'm bring the luger And my 19-9-6 shot beamer Flying on the West Side highway, that's when I seen her Van full of jiggy Oh now they wanna get me At full pushin 80 max while I'm hittin the buck 50 n***as know Dig me blazin the la-la The weed keep me zoned word to Taiwana K-basa baby, you know who loves you girl Young wild thugs we rule the world Chorus {2X} [Shyheim] (Squig) Yea, Uh, I'd like to give a mad big up (No doubt, represent) Respect to the 2 Cent click B-I, my man Ty motha f**in D (What up Ski?) One time, Squig, word up, Vin-cent Redman, Rubba-Rubba-Rubbabandz Hah hah, and it, and it don't stop