Rittz, Trizz - I Live That lyrics

Talk that shit, get rocked to sleep! i cut
Niggas they pop the heat
I’m paid as fuck but talk
Is cheap, move real quiet
Cus the loudest weak
Out here smoking on the loudest tree
Killa kali nigga who wild as we
Nobody bitch, we down to creep on niggas who
Live right down the street
Its real out here, nigga fuck
Y’all, get killed out here
Niggas ducked off
Prices on heads, get cut off
Tryna act hard…get fucked off
South Side Cali to the ATL
Gettin paid as hell, we paid to scale
Off caine we sell, cuz me made to fail
N we don’t trust shit niggas paid to tell
And u niggas don’t want it, I’m
Coming to getchu I’m on it, fuck u niggas
Who be talking that shit and be hella phony
Niggas actin like we homies
Muthafucka u don’t know me, all
U pussy niggas owe me
U a rida nigga show me!
Neva stress ova bitch niggas, only
Ride wit my bitch
Nigga…ridin around gettin rich
Nigga, low key like a snitch nigga
My mind stay state fucked up, always
Drunk n high stay fucked, diss my camp get
Fucked up, back down, got me fucked up
Young n dumb but smart as fuck
They hate on me cuz I’m hard as fuck
And these niggas trash, garbage trucks
Fuck any niggas that target us
Its fucked up where I live at, hood life
I live that
Respect u gotta give that if u want
It back where I live at
This old shit, i been strapped
Get robbed go get it back
Sit back wit all the chit chat
Or yo life we end that

Lil homie just got murdered for
A pair of J's
Now his parents gotta bury they son
Cuz the young muthafucka pulled his and
Shot'em to get his shoes
Lookin where he lays
What a waste, man the world
Can be a scary place
Life passin by the wind don't let it marinate
Seen a hustler gettin paid, watch his
Head inflate, tryna play Superman
And wear his cape
He afraid starin at his face?
Wait! let me narrate
We used to carry blades back in 10th grade
Homie got shanked, a couple years past
And? got shot point blank, in the head
Cuz he forgot he was swimmin in a
Shark tank, put on yo war paint
Homie yo car ain't
Bulletproof, pull up to yo house
In the broad day
You get robbed cuz you talkin
You flossin! you coughin up blood
Prayin to God up in the drive way! Homicide!
They shoot to kill! it's too for real
They plottin on ya shoes, ya pills
Ya lose ya wheels
And it don't matter who ya is, a shooter
Lose it's coo you might lose a
Limb or lose ya life
Its ova, he's goner now
Murder murder terminator, john Connor
Style, my homie Trizz said they on his scalp
They keep on playin we gone have to bring
Them muthafuckin choppers out cuz
It's fucked up where I live at!