Chrisette Michele, The Game - Let Us Live lyrics
[Chrisette Michele, The Game - Let Us Live lyrics]
Yo I'm hoping out a Phantom
With a' iced out medallion
Stallions on both arms, rocks on both charms
My Dominican chick looking
Like Scarface sister
Red and curly and she wake me up early
Cus hustlers hit the block
When police change shifts
New York, California different toilet
Same shit
In Brooklyn I rock Timberlands
Still toast cinnamon
Been gangster way before he dropped many men
Liquor in my system
Voice raspy who I sound like?
Don't ask me that's my nigga we classy
Him and Montega Jada our
Style superior to haters
You can catch me in the latest Marvin Gaters
Ralph Lauren suit tape it up
Fly cause I'm papered up
Why these niggas keep hating on my Phantom
I be out in Atlanta and
Body tapping I'm probably strapped
Toast it up niggas
All my hoods on the real
Dark side of the track
No sunny sky's just really black
We live real down here, Lord let us live
No playing around here, Lord let us live
Don't hate my hood just hate my shine
We coming out we on our grind
We live real down here, Lord let us live
We coming outta here, Lord let us live
Now who the fuck want war
With the human gun store?
Gangsta rap is where I live just
Knock on the front door
Niggas stunt more than Jackie Chan
What the fuck them faggots saying?
Nothing when I walk in the club
With the gat in hand
Take 'em back to '94 shooing
Out a Astro van
Banging was the blueprint money
Was the master plan
Duffel bag full of Grants and Franklins
Rob niggas take they money shoot
Straight to the bank then
Head to the barbershop to get chopped up
Hearing war stories who dead
And who locked up
Who snitching
Who pitching and who knocked up
Fuck niggas in Black Wall Street I trust
Black hoodies and black Asics
Standing on the pavement
Hustlers don't sleep nigga we
Work the grave shift
Fuck that long money nigga get paid quick
And don't save shit
All my hoods on the real
Dark side of the track
No sunny sky's just really black
We live real down here, Lord let us live
No playing around here, Lord let us live
Don't hate my hood just hate my shine
We coming out we on our grind
We live real down here, Lord let us live
We coming outta here, Lord let us live
Lord knows that money don't matter
Lord knows that status is badder
Lord knows about the hood I live in
He's taking away but he's giving
Now don't give me these cars
Don't give me these mansions
Don't hate me just let me ride
Lord just give me light
I don't hate Mobb Deep or M.O.P
That was a phase I was caught up in
The beef like a rat in a maze
And my legacy will never be that of a hater
Lyrical rhyme slayer wack niggas
Say your prayers
It's the return of Gandhi
Criminal minded city behind me
Put it on my face to remind me
Of all the shit I been
Through my physical presence
My pen too nice
My first album sent you life
I should of put down the
Mic when Rakim left Dre
No cleanup hitter so I was
Stranded on second base
I had to steal third
Motherfucker that's my word
There's some Queens niggas try to put
Me back on the curb
I was ultimate warrior to
You bully ass niggas
I will come through the hood
With the fully axe niggas
Like Snoop or Suge I'm in
The coupe I'm good
Mothafuckas make way
All my hoods on the real
Dark side of the track
No sunny sky's just really black
We live real down here, Lord let us live
No playing around here, Lord let us live
Don't hate my hood just hate my shine
We coming out we on our grind
We live real down here, Lord let us live
We coming outta here, Lord let us live
Is that Michelle Chrisette
Black Wall, Coollie High, Scott Storch
Let's ride
'08 to infinity
California, New York
Scott Storch, Scott Storch