Uh, expensive things, diamond rings and things
You know, rap life, rap life, say what, ah, uh
Rap niggaz, we dippin' individuals
Some of us be frontin', some of us is really criminals
Swimmin' in the women and money we never had, it's sad
Rap could turn a good nigga bad
But not Catash though; I gaffle respect with no hassle
I'm still the same nigga, light skinded, curly afro
What's up though? I'm still the same nigga, a superfreak
I blow a g a week; catch me burnin' rubber up the street
Rap niggaz always smokin' indo
So everytime we puff it's twenty dollars out the window
But what is friends fo'? We gonna blow that dough regardless
My niggaz live the life, and they ain't even rap artists
Rap money - we get that shit and blow it
We trick thirty g's and ain't got shit to show for it
Let me get that case of Moet, let me get that CLK
Let me get that ounce of bomb from my man from East L.A.
Let me get that
Rap niggaz get money, press up and get hundreds
Be like all them niggaz on it
Which side rock the most; it don't matter 'cause it get notes
Meet you on the left side of the boat
Coast, drivin' it most; we like where them niggaz go
We like everywhere; party where the fans go
It's all rap hype, young black niggaz - that's mad hype
Got ya station in a smash right
My Likwit niggaz made a killin'
We dropped three albums and got the whole world dancin' on the ceilin'
So I'm feelin' like the villain that cracked that safe's combo
My nigga had some hos; I told him shoot 'em through my condo
He shot 'em through; they peeped my cd through
They startin' askin' questions, but fuck the interview
What y'all really want to do? They said: "pop the cryst'."
I said: "You like rap? Well wrap ya mouth around this!"
Rap niggas, young niggaz ballin'
We on the motorcyles doin' ninety down my hall and
With the gold chain swingin', fallin' to the street
This rap life got us buyin' shit we don't need
We don't need the jet skis, but let's buy 'em just to try 'em
We splashin' out the Lex and got all the ladies eyein'
Us now, and we don't fuck around with no wife
'Cause all my niggaz is livin' the rap life
First of all, before we move on
Shit is like a Yukon, son
Slide shit on like Grey Poupon
Mergin' in the suburbs
Gettin' raw with greenery herb
Real ill niggaz smack birds
Fat words showin' proof how my gat work - go shoot, kill
Smack a blackbird, jettin' in an AC-herse
Big Jim stay grinnin' in a six, spinnin' it, kid
Nigga who flex, Lex threw ten in him
Stand posin', blowin' shit, coast from east and west
We rockin' our vest, cannon might roast you
High powered hydrolic Eddie Bauer rockwilder
Who wilder? Slang bit niggas on the collar
Amp might blow
I might land, set up shop, and glow
Shinin' like a lamp post, my camp post
Cream leather green leaves forever
Goin' to do whatever
Corns and crab niggaz - they roll together
What up tash? Black hash, we invented the spaz
High like sixteen niggaz over ten bags
Real niggas gon' ride
Fake niggaz gon' slide
Check the next issue, faggot, in the vidibe
Rap drama, the drama never calms
I be on the celly phone, trippin' off my baby moms
Try na make her understand I get paid to rhyme
I don't show up at your job, so don't show up at mine!
'Cause there's no biz like show biz if y'all niggaz ask me
Show money, that's like pimpin' 'cause we get it tax free
Catch a check for thirty-three, cut straight from SRC
Take it straight to any counter, cash my shit with no I.D.
Rap women - they always be around us
'Cause we from out of town, and they be lovin' out-of-towners
Wash up in motherfuckas like a t.v. evangelist
'Cause they from where they from, and we straight from Los Angeles
Yo, what up
What's up, nigga?
What's goin' on?
Hey, what's up Rae? Let's go half on a football team, nigga, he he
Yo, I was thinkin' about buyin' two basketball teams
What's up? What we gonna do?
Hey, he he
Matter fact, we can do that
Lets do that
Lyrics submitted by SongMeanings
"Rap Life" as written by Richard A Frierson Richard Frierson
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, MEMORY LANE MUSIC GROUP
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