"Live at the Tunnel" as written by and Paul/mc Kenzie Mitchell....
Everything yeah, yeah
What the fuck nigga
Ayyo dim the lights on my shit son
Yeah you heard, fuck that
For my nigga Flex

It's like that why'all (that why'all)
That why'all (that why'all)
That why'all (that why'all)
That why'all (that why'all)
It's like that why'all (that why'all)
That why'all (that why'all)
That why'all, It's murda

Respect a thug, or accept a slug
Or accept the death of somebody you love
That's the rules we live by, ways I kiss by
We all murderers in the eyes of all ours
So when I pull a bubble up and back in your car
When I spit sixteen's you gonna wish they was sparks
Can you hold something, you can hold heat you can keep
Slugs in your sleep while I'm plugging your freak
I'm the thug of the week, the killer of the millennium
Spitting like mack ten and a nine ??
Blasting off like Flex on New Years
Who cares how many slugs why'all spit in the air
Niggaz over here got glock nineteen's, P89's, hollow points, and M16's
Three fifty-seven's and mack11's
We clap you come to the funeral...

Motherfucker if your holding them ?? nigga
Then I'd advise nigga, we rip the high niggas
Don't matter the size niggaz
Ever since I popped up, a lot of niggaz done got stuck
While I'm laying the cut, meant that's rocked up
Believe it's murda
Niggaz get popped up, buried and chopped up
We don't give a fuck if the cops get touched
A ?? and a baby blue drop
With a stash box holding a fifth and two glocks
And every sixteen I spit I ??
And won't stop firing, firing until I got, a four full of money
And playboy you bunny
Yo you get us a clip of hollow tip slugs from me
Bitch nigga, acting out the life of a thug money
I hustle and, grind those block for drug money
And make sure, kept counting every stack
We drop bombs like Flex and Big Kap

Fuck that

Oh why must children die
I guess the lil' nigga want the piece of the pie, let 'em die
Oh why must thug niggaz snitch
I guess the lil' nigga thought he'd get a lil' rich, lil' bitch
That's why we don't talk quick
'Cause niggaz who talk quick get killed for the bricks
This is it, that's why we walk with our guns
'Cause those without guns get killed by guns

?? the one that will kill you son
It's the same where ever we from, it's the slums
We spit guns, lay you down for the 1
I love when niggaz talk slick with they tongue
You ain't buying no one, you talking shit
I'm from the place get killed for shit
So fuck where you from, better start from day 1
It's amazing...

Murda mommy in every song
You was warned, should of listened when I told ya
It's coming to a closure
And almost over now
Go to war like a solider now
And you rat broads running my style, I'm shutting you down
From N.Y. to L.A., Vi-ta from Jersey
More of a bitch then a lady
Chase chips, slick bitch
With flows that's sick, and it only gets worse...

Fuck that

Murda, is the way of the walk
And since I walk a thin line, I'm looking at niggaz with dead eyes
And I'm baptized, my body has sinned
A lil' weed, a few hoes, and a whole lot of head
Got me hollering, I don't give a fuck!
About nothing at all, front
I'm blasting off, killing you with probable cause
'Cause you probable of thinking that you hotter then I
It will never be until I die, and touch the sky
Hells angel, fly
I feel like I'm at war fighting for my inner self fighting for my life
This world made me a, Murderer
May the lord take you, before I murder ya
Bodies turning up, and who you think got 'em all touched
Murderers, is on your block catching the rush
Like niggaz can fuck wit us, they all gonna fall
Rule nigga, It's like that why'all

Lyrics submitted by SongMeanings

"Live at the Tunnel" as written by Tiheem N Crocker Jeffrey Atkins

Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, Roba Music

Lyrics powered by LyricFind

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