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Letra VICTORY 2004 por P. Diddy letra

Ver la letra VICTORY 2004 por P. Diddy Escucha VICTORY 2004 gratis online. Las mejores canciones de P. Diddy. Explorar canciones parecidas a VICTORY 2004 usando nuestro motor de búsqueda.

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P. DIDDY, NOTORIOUS B.I.G., BUSTA RHYMES, 50 CENT, LLOYD BANKS LYRICS Victory 2004 [P. Diddy] 10 years... Yo the sun don't shine forever but as long as its here then we might as well shine togeher Better now than never business before pleasure P-Diddy and the Fam, who you know do it better? Yeah right, no matter what, we air tight So when you hear somethin, make sure you hear it right Don't make a ass outta yourself, by assumin My music keeps you movin, what are you provin? You know that I'm two levels above you baby Hug me baby, I'ma make you love me baby

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It's ten years and we still runnin this motherfucker [P. Diddy] Yeah! [B.I.G.] One [P. Diddy] As we procede to give you what you need! [B.I.G.] One...Two! [P. Diddy]

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It's all fucked up now! [50 Cent] Yo! [P. Diddy] What the fuck yaw gonna do now? [50 Cent] Yo, we can't stay alive forever So if shit hit the fan then we might as well die together I'm high as ever, more hoes and more cheddar G-Unit move around wit them pounds and berreta's Yea faggot, if I want it I'm gon' have it Regardless if it's handed to me or I gotta grab it

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Don't make a ass outta yaself tryin to stop me I'm cocky, raps rocky, nigga you sloppy You know that I'm, 8 levels above you nigga I'll club you nigga, I never heard of you nigga, ugly nigga I'm the wrong one to provoke And rattin on niggas is only gon' leave you smoke So the only thing left now is toast for these cowrads I got no friends, fuck most of these cowards They pop shit 'till we start approaching these cowards While we lay around dollars, they lay around flowers [B.I.G.] In The Commision, you ask for permission to hit em He don't like me, him and wild wifey was wit em You heard of us, the murderers, most shady

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Been on the low lately, the feds hate me The son of Satan, they say my killin's too blatant You hesitatin, I'm in your mama crib waitin Duct tapin, your fam destiny Lays in my hands, gat lays in my waist Francis, M to the iz-H phenominal Gun rest under your vest by the abdominal Rhyme a few bars so I can buy a few cars And I kick a few flows so I can pimp a few hoes Excellence is my presence, never tense Never hesitant, leave a nigga bent real quick Real sick, brawl nights, I perform like Mike Anyone -- Tyson, Jordan, Jackson Action, pack guns, ridiculous And I'm, quick to bust, if my ends you touch

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Kids or girl you touch, in this world I clutch Two auto-matoes, used to call me fatso Now you call me Castro, my rap flows Militant, y'all faggots ain't killin shit Ooops Cristal keep spillin shit, you overdid it homes You in the danger zone, you shouldn't be alone Hold hands and say it like me The most shady, Frankie baby, fantastic Graphic, tryin to make dough, like Jurassic Park did quick to spark kids who start shit See me, only me The Underboss of this holocaust Truly yours, Frank White [Chorus: Busta Rhymes]

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We got the real live shit from front to back To my people in the world, where the hell you at? Where my soldiers is at? [2X] Where my real live my soldiers? Where my soldiers is at? [P. Diddy] You know it can't stay dark for long They say its darkest before the dawn Cars before the storm I'm happy makes a bethus now preaching the song I can see B.I. rocking the Sean John yeah right This is for life afters like B.I. Frank White Yo Bad Boy for life

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No matter what the public say we gon prove There aint another MC who could feel ya shoes Cuz Biggie Smalls is the illest Realest my stones and killas got homes and villas Overseas and what was me I find out Who found out other MCs been tryin to find ya route This illman MC used to be on other shit Took home "Life after Death" and they studied it Listened to the double disk Now they all spit like they all legit Frank tell how we did! [B.I.G.] We got the shit, Mac tight, brass knuckles and flashlights The heaters in the two-seaters, with two midas

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Senoritas, kiss rings when you meet us P-Diddy run the city, show no pity I'm the witty one, Frank's the crook from the Brook' Matty broke the neck of your coke connect No respect squeeze off til all y'all diminish Shootouts for twenty minutes, until we finish Venice took the loot, escaped, in the Coupe Break bread, with the kiss, Peniro, sheek loops Black Rob joined the mob, it ain't no replacin him Niggaz step up, we just macin them Placin them in funerals, criminals turned aroused The Brick City, nobody come off like P-Diddy Businesswise, I play men Hide money on the Island Cayman, y'all just betray men You screamin, I position, competition

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Nother day in the life of the Comission [Lloyd Banks] I got a intergangstress who argue and steams wit reefer And who flip when I call a bitch like she Queen Latifah Not all the vehicle's is long enough to stash the streetsweeper This shit can get uglier than the Master P sneaker We slidin through the ruckus, wit prada on the chuckus Soon as spring break ho's home from college wanna fuck us I ain't here to drop knowledge on you suckas I'll sick rottweiler's on you fuckas, cops followin to cuff us Top dollars to discuss this, whole lotta zeros When it comes to paper I blow a soul outta aero I'ma break before I lay floor burried Besides, every rapper ain't a star, nigga plad ain't burberry

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You can't tame Lloyd, smokin by the big screen You changin the channel looks like I'm playin the game boy I know to watch botherin ya vision You reach and I'll put a dot on ya head like its part of yo religion Why party wit a pigeon? I'm blowin a 10 cuz Bush handin flyers for a party in a prison I'm in the gucci vest wit the green and red straps I'm the last rapper to scare niggas since Craig Mack Now every morning's a fast start And there aint problem gettin dressed cuz my closet got more aisles than pathmark Run, when we startin a wave And leave wit 12 shells in ya mouth like a carton of eggs I'm the young pimp pardon my age I don't got long hair but if I did she be partin my braids Niggas find what club they at

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Take 'em wit us, and run a train on 'em like a subway mac Get advances from grey Acura See these record labels got most artists gettin fucked like the gay rappa' I go the college on the tour I'm goin down in history nigga, next to Wallace and Shakur I keep ya ammo clean, text polished in the drawer Camera's by the hamper that mine into the floor By now, you probably heard of me Fresh outta surgery, flashy as a fuck, you gon' have to murder me Burglary, I'm leavin wit cha nike's bergendy, White T, bergendy You match now, back down Niggas love to hate you, but love you when you disappear Catch me on the boat wit weed smoke and fishing gear Heavy when I toke, C notes from different years Besly in the robe, re-motes for liftin chairs

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You ain't rich, but we glad to snatch ya I send cars to crib like I'm a cab dispatcha You better off wit ya stupid guys, lookin for a coupe to drive You ain't gettin nuttin but ya french fries supersized It's a damn shame y'all still local I'm in a million dollar studio layin my vocals Nigga [Chorus (x3): Busta Rhymes] We got the real live shit from front to back To my people in the world, where the hell you at? Where my soldiers is at? [2X] Where my real live my soldiers? Where my soldiers is at? [Busta Rhymes] Whe got the real live shit! What yaw niggas wanna do?

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