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zuò cí : Ahlert, Jones, Kaempfert ... |
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Yeah... uhh |
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In the M. A. F. I. A.' s land, y' all |
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Where loyalty is everything |
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The M. A. F. I. A. forgives, but never forgets |
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Heh, let me tell you |
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In the M. A. F. I. A.' s land where there' s one boss and one clan |
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Yes mans, they surround us like steaks in pans |
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All ' em wanna be the man, right hands wash the left hands |
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Loyalty' s priority in this fam |
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Where life' s initiated, ain' t no givin' it back |
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Once you in it, like Bennett, you' ll soon be lieutenant |
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Like me, the Don Juan, that' s Yvonne |
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The sweata the money getter |
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Coppin' mad cheddar |
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Stevie was wondering how I got in this position |
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One day Frank was fishin' for competition, expedition |
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Number one, his name is Barry Madanno |
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Push the phat Milano, ' 96 stickshift ' cross the Verrazano |
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I lay gently in the Bentley |
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Through binoculars he seemed popular |
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Givenchy socks, Cartier coolats |
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Hclass rocks and charms like Bohemians |
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Sick like leukemians, receding hairlines |
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Watch how genuine this gold mine recline |
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When Frank pops the wine, I cocks the nine |
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Niggas peeped it from behind and slipped they clips in quick |
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One chick named Nick thought she was the shit |
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Tried to play Big Poppa, don' t worry |
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Minutes before I drop her, the blow! blow! blow! |
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Like a parolee, the bitch violated |
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So how you like it: coffins or cremated? |
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It ain' t a day of my life that rolls by |
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That I don' t get high, sit back, and wan' cry |
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I used to roll hard with tons of bitches |
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Now, it' s just me and my niggas |
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It ain' t a day of my life that rolls by |
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That I don' t get high, sit back, and wan' cry |
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I used to roll hard with tons of bitches |
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Now, it' s just me and my niggas |
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Street murderers, thug parasites |
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We official, no fake gators |
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Coppin' fire arms with dud missles |
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We leavin' scar tissues |
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That nigga Barry still aggy about that slut |
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Mob nigga, what! threw the gang sign up |
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The nigga chuckles, just slip the loot |
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On my belt buckles and cracked his middle knuckles |
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Damn! How could a deal for a couple mill |
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Result to such violence |
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And throw our whole shit off balance? |
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But still, they pat me down from all angles |
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Trapped inside the Devil' s triangle |
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Like Bo I had the Jangles |
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And movin' slow to slide up on these Mexicans |
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One crosseyed and hunchbacked |
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The other must be mixed with Black |
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The third nigga had missin' teeth and tattoo tear drops |
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Long hair, chest felt like a bag of rocks |
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Before this chops |
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I grabbed the keys to locks, the jewels and the rocks |
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The cream in the box, et cetera, et cetera, and it don' t stop |
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I got away with everything, the cash and the stash |
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It ain' t a day of my life that rolls by |
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That I don' t get high, sit back, and wan' cry |
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I used to roll hard with tons of bitches |
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Now, it' s just me and my niggas |
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It ain' t a day of my life that rolls by |
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That I don' t get high, sit back, and wan' cry |
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I used to roll hard with tons of bitches |
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Now, it' s just me and my niggas |
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So now I' m titled, mission acomplished |
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My man was astonished |
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He looked as if there was a foul aroma in the air |
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Stinkin'! I know this nigga' s thinkin' |
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" Damn! She too little, too pretty, too quiet |
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The bitch is hired," mob' s wife for life |
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Diamond heist with Trife, contracts on your life |
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We increase the price, uhh |
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So guess who the bitch is? |
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But for now I be the mistress |
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It ain' t a day of my life that rolls by |
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That I don' t get high, sit back, and wan' cry |
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I used to roll hard with tons of bitches |
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Now, it' s just me and my niggas |
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It ain' t a day of my life that rolls by |
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That I don' t get high, sit back, and wan' cry |
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I used to roll hard with tons of bitches |
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Now, it' s just me and my niggas |
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Uhh, it' s just me and my niggas, just me and my niggas |
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Wha, it' s just me and my niggas |
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Uhh, me and my niggas, me and my niggas |
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Uhh, it' s just me and my niggas |