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Till I Die Lyrics



[eiht]
Geah
Thug shit, nigga
G's in the y-2-k
Hey, what can I say? (geah)
Hoo-bangin's official, nigga
And right now we gon' do some of that thug shit for that a*s (killa)
Geah, that's makin' me wanna do some of that evil shit (west side!)
Check it out

[eiht]
Feel a little gust of wind so I jet
This real nigga dwells from compton, no shit
Thugs town, right now car jacks and sales
County bus rolls through - niggas trips to jail
What the hell won't trade it, high cla*s can't fade it
Out of town trips with pigeons is how we made it
Y'all niggas 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 niggas must be gay, smilin' and shakin'
How this bitch 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, kill, kill, kill
Steel is my reputation, caps get peeled
Front line nigga for dollars is my nigga
But I'm kinda fast when they spit the 9 triggers
Till my dying day I lay away
Till my very last breath, nigga, I swear to make you pay
Guilty conscience? never me!
Last night nigga done caught a felony
Jealousy try to approach, wanna promote
Then provoke through gun smoke, watch out, loc!
Shake down cause these niggas f**kin' 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'
Niggas 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, nigga? )
Time to elevate the game and turn it up a notch
And bust on the muthaf**kin' 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 hoe in a 6-4 blowin' doja while we swervin'
Keep that off the hood, greed and determination in my eye, nigga
Be my piece of the pie, nigga, so I ride until I die,nigga

Chorus...



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