Caine House 歌词
| 歌曲 | Caine House |
| 歌手 | Do or Die |
| 专辑 | Headz Or Tailz |
| 下载 | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Lindley, Round, Round, Smith | |
| Chorus | |
| So I told you where I hang out | |
| Ya got some sellin then | |
| Haller my name out | |
| Remember man me an you | |
| Runnin up out the cain house | |
| Nigga just for you I blow his brains out | |
| I blow his brains out | |
| Ill blow his mutherfuckin brains out | |
| So I told you where I hang out | |
| Ya got some sellin then | |
| Haller my name out | |
| Remember man me an you | |
| Runnin up out the cain house | |
| Nigga just for you I blow his brains out | |
| I blow his brains out | |
| Ill blow his mutherfuckin brains out | |
| Verso One | |
| Two of my hommies got killed | |
| From the hollow point tips | |
| Cepts it looks like hell | |
| Three point five million | |
| From those narcotic sells | |
| Gang signs thats maile | |
| Seventy two hours incarcerated | |
| All becouse my hood floss bloody body's | |
| On the pavement | |
| That playa hater shit | |
| Is what brings that type of drama | |
| What a nigga need to start doin | |
| Is just kidnappin your mama | |
| Catch me in the game for 8 years | |
| So watch my nigga catch stripes | |
| In the middle of the night | |
| Seein fiends smoke pipes | |
| Dub sacks an Coniac | |
| Helps me deal with these phonies | |
| Busters sellin for G's that I stack | |
| From the back to ponies | |
| I got hommies with L's on they backs | |
| Who fell through the crack | |
| And hidin shank's under they mattress | |
| Where were you | |
| When will you realise | |
| When cockin Glocks | |
| To pop those cops | |
| Makes a Mil of these blocks | |
| Ride in drop tops | |
| Be foolin with G-nocks | |
| Dont trust those bitches | |
| They choose to squish and let em squeel | |
| Go ahead and trust em | |
| You'll have no money screamin BIAATCH | |
| To tha billi ba-bang | |
| The reflections drummin like solo | |
| Hold on like En Vogue | |
| Put out that Endo | |
| Let down the window | |
| Tec's to our set | |
| Seventeen to mix with the bullshit | |
| Lettin em know at the do' with the full clip | |
| When you bust at me | |
| That nigga slip | |
| They steady runnin | |
| The gun | |
| To keep the nigga off that lay low | |
| Got niggs on the pay roll | |
| That'll kill when I say so | |
| Three hay-lo's | |
| It gets so fatel | |
| On Warnell talk to no one | |
| Sometimes it gets to the point I | |
| Cock my ho's see what Im sayin | |
| Chorus | |
| Verse Two | |
| The lord is smokin | |
| Thats why my life | |
| Has been this livin hell | |
| For the thug life up on the street | |
| And to the prison cell | |
| Unlawfull use is what | |
| They caught me with a Tec-9 | |
| An do they got probable cause | |
| They never did take no time | |
| Steady use of prison | |
| Took another brothers man hood | |
| They choose next time | |
| Up under the bench | |
| They say its all good | |
| But I was young | |
| Didnt know any better | |
| Although I did comp out the bootcamp | |
| Fly to give a brotha seven | |
| Years of prison teirs | |
| My hommies pourin beers | |
| I guess this henny | |
| Should be life of what a thug lives | |
| My only hurt | |
| Maybe wont be my last | |
| But heres a tip for these cops | |
| Next time Im goin out with a blast | |
| So if you look up in this black man's | |
| Eyes of straight madness | |
| Ready to buck you down | |
| Upon the ground | |
| For all my past teachers | |
| Give your souls up | |
| If your showed up | |
| Dont hold up | |
| We Do or Die | |
| And you know we | |
| Straight soldiers | |
| Chorus | |
| Nigga I got your back | |
| You got mine | |
| Lets keep it comin | |
| Throw your guns in the air | |
| Uh-uh no time for runnin | |
| They'll miss the gunnin | |
| Its Do or Die | |
| When we ride out | |
| Niggero you comin | |
| Lets leave the scene | |
| And go and hide out | |
| An miss the trippin | |
| Trippin an clippin | |
| Lets get to dippin | |
| Mutherfuck gonna die | |
| Becouse he lied | |
| About my hommie flippin | |
| Swole head and a broke jaw | |
| Fuck that | |
| My nigga you dead an gone | |
| But you better believe | |
| Im bustin back | |
| Aint got no time | |
| For individuals | |
| Who just wanna trip | |
| You done broke his jaw | |
| You done broke my law | |
| So now I gots to dip | |
| Now whip | |
| Up on that ass | |
| With this nine milla | |
| You aint fuckin with a ho | |
| You fuckin with a po | |
| That be a stone killa | |
| My nigga dead an gone | |
| So rest in peace an close his casket | |
| Thiers plenty more chances | |
| If it takes ten years | |
| I swear ill kill this basterd | |
| To war zone grab that chrome | |
| Plus the clip that matches | |
| Retalliation is a must | |
| Thats why Im kickin asses | |
| These BHN they straight be trippin | |
| Cus the hood I come from | |
| Thats why Im packin | |
| Fully be jackin | |
| Cus these ho's dont want none | |
| Cant get along | |
| Keep this mo | |
| Im talkin player rythem | |
| Got niggas on the side | |
| Whose bitin ears | |
| By spittin negatism | |
| I got my ninner | |
| Off of safety | |
| Ready to try it out | |
| What made me do it | |
| It was hood when I ride out | |
| From north or south | |
| To the east to the west | |
| Who rolls the best | |
| So fuck your chief | |
| His ass gonna die | |
| When I load this tec | |
| Chorus | |
| To them niggas in the pen | |
| Who got sent up for this bullshit | |
| Yea pullin triggas fo' bigger figgas | |
| Thats it them niggas loyal to this game | |
| And some of these niggas aint your hommies | |
| The niggas you think are your hommies are not your hommies | |
| So when you look behind your back | |
| That mutherfucker might be havin a knife stabbin you | |
| So you watch that shit | |
| Its real | |
| About that pen nigga | |
| To the niggas on the street an in the pen yea |
| zuo ci : Lindley, Round, Round, Smith | |
| Chorus | |
| So I told you where I hang out | |
| Ya got some sellin then | |
| Haller my name out | |
| Remember man me an you | |
| Runnin up out the cain house | |
| Nigga just for you I blow his brains out | |
| I blow his brains out | |
| Ill blow his mutherfuckin brains out | |
| So I told you where I hang out | |
| Ya got some sellin then | |
| Haller my name out | |
| Remember man me an you | |
| Runnin up out the cain house | |
| Nigga just for you I blow his brains out | |
| I blow his brains out | |
| Ill blow his mutherfuckin brains out | |
| Verso One | |
| Two of my hommies got killed | |
| From the hollow point tips | |
| Cepts it looks like hell | |
| Three point five million | |
| From those narcotic sells | |
| Gang signs thats maile | |
| Seventy two hours incarcerated | |
| All becouse my hood floss bloody body' s | |
| On the pavement | |
| That playa hater shit | |
| Is what brings that type of drama | |
| What a nigga need to start doin | |
| Is just kidnappin your mama | |
| Catch me in the game for 8 years | |
| So watch my nigga catch stripes | |
| In the middle of the night | |
| Seein fiends smoke pipes | |
| Dub sacks an Coniac | |
| Helps me deal with these phonies | |
| Busters sellin for G' s that I stack | |
| From the back to ponies | |
| I got hommies with L' s on they backs | |
| Who fell through the crack | |
| And hidin shank' s under they mattress | |
| Where were you | |
| When will you realise | |
| When cockin Glocks | |
| To pop those cops | |
| Makes a Mil of these blocks | |
| Ride in drop tops | |
| Be foolin with Gnocks | |
| Dont trust those bitches | |
| They choose to squish and let em squeel | |
| Go ahead and trust em | |
| You' ll have no money screamin BIAATCH | |
| To tha billi babang | |
| The reflections drummin like solo | |
| Hold on like En Vogue | |
| Put out that Endo | |
| Let down the window | |
| Tec' s to our set | |
| Seventeen to mix with the bullshit | |
| Lettin em know at the do' with the full clip | |
| When you bust at me | |
| That nigga slip | |
| They steady runnin | |
| The gun | |
| To keep the nigga off that lay low | |
| Got niggs on the pay roll | |
| That' ll kill when I say so | |
| Three haylo' s | |
| It gets so fatel | |
| On Warnell talk to no one | |
| Sometimes it gets to the point I | |
| Cock my ho' s see what Im sayin | |
| Chorus | |
| Verse Two | |
| The lord is smokin | |
| Thats why my life | |
| Has been this livin hell | |
| For the thug life up on the street | |
| And to the prison cell | |
| Unlawfull use is what | |
| They caught me with a Tec9 | |
| An do they got probable cause | |
| They never did take no time | |
| Steady use of prison | |
| Took another brothers man hood | |
| They choose next time | |
| Up under the bench | |
| They say its all good | |
| But I was young | |
| Didnt know any better | |
| Although I did comp out the bootcamp | |
| Fly to give a brotha seven | |
| Years of prison teirs | |
| My hommies pourin beers | |
| I guess this henny | |
| Should be life of what a thug lives | |
| My only hurt | |
| Maybe wont be my last | |
| But heres a tip for these cops | |
| Next time Im goin out with a blast | |
| So if you look up in this black man' s | |
| Eyes of straight madness | |
| Ready to buck you down | |
| Upon the ground | |
| For all my past teachers | |
| Give your souls up | |
| If your showed up | |
| Dont hold up | |
| We Do or Die | |
| And you know we | |
| Straight soldiers | |
| Chorus | |
| Nigga I got your back | |
| You got mine | |
| Lets keep it comin | |
| Throw your guns in the air | |
| Uhuh no time for runnin | |
| They' ll miss the gunnin | |
| Its Do or Die | |
| When we ride out | |
| Niggero you comin | |
| Lets leave the scene | |
| And go and hide out | |
| An miss the trippin | |
| Trippin an clippin | |
| Lets get to dippin | |
| Mutherfuck gonna die | |
| Becouse he lied | |
| About my hommie flippin | |
| Swole head and a broke jaw | |
| Fuck that | |
| My nigga you dead an gone | |
| But you better believe | |
| Im bustin back | |
| Aint got no time | |
| For individuals | |
| Who just wanna trip | |
| You done broke his jaw | |
| You done broke my law | |
| So now I gots to dip | |
| Now whip | |
| Up on that ass | |
| With this nine milla | |
| You aint fuckin with a ho | |
| You fuckin with a po | |
| That be a stone killa | |
| My nigga dead an gone | |
| So rest in peace an close his casket | |
| Thiers plenty more chances | |
| If it takes ten years | |
| I swear ill kill this basterd | |
| To war zone grab that chrome | |
| Plus the clip that matches | |
| Retalliation is a must | |
| Thats why Im kickin asses | |
| These BHN they straight be trippin | |
| Cus the hood I come from | |
| Thats why Im packin | |
| Fully be jackin | |
| Cus these ho' s dont want none | |
| Cant get along | |
| Keep this mo | |
| Im talkin player rythem | |
| Got niggas on the side | |
| Whose bitin ears | |
| By spittin negatism | |
| I got my ninner | |
| Off of safety | |
| Ready to try it out | |
| What made me do it | |
| It was hood when I ride out | |
| From north or south | |
| To the east to the west | |
| Who rolls the best | |
| So fuck your chief | |
| His ass gonna die | |
| When I load this tec | |
| Chorus | |
| To them niggas in the pen | |
| Who got sent up for this bullshit | |
| Yea pullin triggas fo' bigger figgas | |
| Thats it them niggas loyal to this game | |
| And some of these niggas aint your hommies | |
| The niggas you think are your hommies are not your hommies | |
| So when you look behind your back | |
| That mutherfucker might be havin a knife stabbin you | |
| So you watch that shit | |
| Its real | |
| About that pen nigga | |
| To the niggas on the street an in the pen yea |
| zuò cí : Lindley, Round, Round, Smith | |
| Chorus | |
| So I told you where I hang out | |
| Ya got some sellin then | |
| Haller my name out | |
| Remember man me an you | |
| Runnin up out the cain house | |
| Nigga just for you I blow his brains out | |
| I blow his brains out | |
| Ill blow his mutherfuckin brains out | |
| So I told you where I hang out | |
| Ya got some sellin then | |
| Haller my name out | |
| Remember man me an you | |
| Runnin up out the cain house | |
| Nigga just for you I blow his brains out | |
| I blow his brains out | |
| Ill blow his mutherfuckin brains out | |
| Verso One | |
| Two of my hommies got killed | |
| From the hollow point tips | |
| Cepts it looks like hell | |
| Three point five million | |
| From those narcotic sells | |
| Gang signs thats maile | |
| Seventy two hours incarcerated | |
| All becouse my hood floss bloody body' s | |
| On the pavement | |
| That playa hater shit | |
| Is what brings that type of drama | |
| What a nigga need to start doin | |
| Is just kidnappin your mama | |
| Catch me in the game for 8 years | |
| So watch my nigga catch stripes | |
| In the middle of the night | |
| Seein fiends smoke pipes | |
| Dub sacks an Coniac | |
| Helps me deal with these phonies | |
| Busters sellin for G' s that I stack | |
| From the back to ponies | |
| I got hommies with L' s on they backs | |
| Who fell through the crack | |
| And hidin shank' s under they mattress | |
| Where were you | |
| When will you realise | |
| When cockin Glocks | |
| To pop those cops | |
| Makes a Mil of these blocks | |
| Ride in drop tops | |
| Be foolin with Gnocks | |
| Dont trust those bitches | |
| They choose to squish and let em squeel | |
| Go ahead and trust em | |
| You' ll have no money screamin BIAATCH | |
| To tha billi babang | |
| The reflections drummin like solo | |
| Hold on like En Vogue | |
| Put out that Endo | |
| Let down the window | |
| Tec' s to our set | |
| Seventeen to mix with the bullshit | |
| Lettin em know at the do' with the full clip | |
| When you bust at me | |
| That nigga slip | |
| They steady runnin | |
| The gun | |
| To keep the nigga off that lay low | |
| Got niggs on the pay roll | |
| That' ll kill when I say so | |
| Three haylo' s | |
| It gets so fatel | |
| On Warnell talk to no one | |
| Sometimes it gets to the point I | |
| Cock my ho' s see what Im sayin | |
| Chorus | |
| Verse Two | |
| The lord is smokin | |
| Thats why my life | |
| Has been this livin hell | |
| For the thug life up on the street | |
| And to the prison cell | |
| Unlawfull use is what | |
| They caught me with a Tec9 | |
| An do they got probable cause | |
| They never did take no time | |
| Steady use of prison | |
| Took another brothers man hood | |
| They choose next time | |
| Up under the bench | |
| They say its all good | |
| But I was young | |
| Didnt know any better | |
| Although I did comp out the bootcamp | |
| Fly to give a brotha seven | |
| Years of prison teirs | |
| My hommies pourin beers | |
| I guess this henny | |
| Should be life of what a thug lives | |
| My only hurt | |
| Maybe wont be my last | |
| But heres a tip for these cops | |
| Next time Im goin out with a blast | |
| So if you look up in this black man' s | |
| Eyes of straight madness | |
| Ready to buck you down | |
| Upon the ground | |
| For all my past teachers | |
| Give your souls up | |
| If your showed up | |
| Dont hold up | |
| We Do or Die | |
| And you know we | |
| Straight soldiers | |
| Chorus | |
| Nigga I got your back | |
| You got mine | |
| Lets keep it comin | |
| Throw your guns in the air | |
| Uhuh no time for runnin | |
| They' ll miss the gunnin | |
| Its Do or Die | |
| When we ride out | |
| Niggero you comin | |
| Lets leave the scene | |
| And go and hide out | |
| An miss the trippin | |
| Trippin an clippin | |
| Lets get to dippin | |
| Mutherfuck gonna die | |
| Becouse he lied | |
| About my hommie flippin | |
| Swole head and a broke jaw | |
| Fuck that | |
| My nigga you dead an gone | |
| But you better believe | |
| Im bustin back | |
| Aint got no time | |
| For individuals | |
| Who just wanna trip | |
| You done broke his jaw | |
| You done broke my law | |
| So now I gots to dip | |
| Now whip | |
| Up on that ass | |
| With this nine milla | |
| You aint fuckin with a ho | |
| You fuckin with a po | |
| That be a stone killa | |
| My nigga dead an gone | |
| So rest in peace an close his casket | |
| Thiers plenty more chances | |
| If it takes ten years | |
| I swear ill kill this basterd | |
| To war zone grab that chrome | |
| Plus the clip that matches | |
| Retalliation is a must | |
| Thats why Im kickin asses | |
| These BHN they straight be trippin | |
| Cus the hood I come from | |
| Thats why Im packin | |
| Fully be jackin | |
| Cus these ho' s dont want none | |
| Cant get along | |
| Keep this mo | |
| Im talkin player rythem | |
| Got niggas on the side | |
| Whose bitin ears | |
| By spittin negatism | |
| I got my ninner | |
| Off of safety | |
| Ready to try it out | |
| What made me do it | |
| It was hood when I ride out | |
| From north or south | |
| To the east to the west | |
| Who rolls the best | |
| So fuck your chief | |
| His ass gonna die | |
| When I load this tec | |
| Chorus | |
| To them niggas in the pen | |
| Who got sent up for this bullshit | |
| Yea pullin triggas fo' bigger figgas | |
| Thats it them niggas loyal to this game | |
| And some of these niggas aint your hommies | |
| The niggas you think are your hommies are not your hommies | |
| So when you look behind your back | |
| That mutherfucker might be havin a knife stabbin you | |
| So you watch that shit | |
| Its real | |
| About that pen nigga | |
| To the niggas on the street an in the pen yea |
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