Warning: session_start(): open(/var/lib/php/sessions/sess_67pg7obh1tera9h4b57an0ki7s, O_RDWR) failed: No space left on device (28) in /var/www/html/lyricsreg.com/reg.php on line 2

Warning: session_start(): Failed to read session data: files (path: /var/lib/php/sessions) in /var/www/html/lyricsreg.com/reg.php on line 2
YOUNG GUNZ : It's The Life lyrics

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

YOUNG GUNZ lyrics : "It's The Life"

(feat. Pooda Brown)

[Young Chris]

Yo a yo everybody name brand
Me I was same pants, same top
Broken hot dogs out the same pot

Since a buck I been packin weapons
Only strappin ^!$$%z do when they sexin
Airheads in they crew is just yes men

My music and my shoot I perfect in
I can't afford to lose I'm destined
And hit that road collect tryna hop up

Outta the hood, ^!$$%z frown they see me pop up
Get locked up and they still with the coppers
Give them something from them choppers I got filled with the coppers

Leavin them gaspin need ox call the doctor
Raw and uncut no mask know who shot ya
Try and tell 'em chill for real but they don't listen though

Till the 4-5th come and kiss 'em under the missle toe
And thats the last time I'mma remind y'all
Next time I'm creepin up in something behind y'all


[Chorus]
It's the life

Just livin it right
Shoot first and don't think twice
And homey if the price is right

^!$$%z'll get at you
Bout who draw the fastest
Casket or the ashes


[Young Neef]
Yo it's lovely when you squeezin them

Ugly when you receivin them
And ya peeps goin crazy in the receiving room
A gun like a lung you gon need more than one

This for every block in te ghetto from where I'm from
I started off a 9 or 10 runnin with my step-pop
Learn how to collect from ^!$$%z and set up shizzop

Never buy hard from him, I learned to cook rock
Summer time blizzock, winter time shizzop
Let a smoker rum 'em in

All they want is 3 for 10
Give up that password before you get the $#&@ in
'Fore we get the buckin

Leave 'em where they stand at
Respect we demand that
Now tell me where them grams at

Stack rubberband wrapped the street still in me
Got me a squadda with a driver, a souped up hemi
Be happy you in my presence I can't give you a penny

Cause this ^!$$% only tough when that %#@!'s up in em
^!$$%


[Chorus]

[Pooda Brown]

Yea ain't nothin soft about me
But ^!$$%z they doubt me
So I'mma have to run through they alley

Get red off of they bount me
Toss the gun ^!$$% I'm outtie
But ^!$$% I'm rowdie

But common sense plays a bigger part of me
I'm Pookie when it comes to the Uzi
I just be callin me

(Mr. Brown) Not Bobby, Foxy, or Nino
It's Pooda baby the Ruger baby'll clean the scene though
Excuse me ladies don't do it lately

But I'm doin my thing though
The crib 24 hours ^!$$% the hook a seno
You lil ^!$$% soft till that ' nana empty

And he not dead dot on his head like he a Indian
It's trainin day ^!$$% wake up early
For we be in ya crib burners wake up Shirley

Cabinets and the bed ^!$$% check that thoroughly
I need that cooked up cookie homie
And that story
Whooo


[Chorus x2]

Submit Corrections