Текст песни Throw My Life Away - Solomon Childs

Throw My Life Away

Yeah… Staten Island… the triz-oops*\nS. Childs! You know? That’s right\nNot for you faggot motherfuckers, anyway\nYou heard me? Fuck ya’ll, that’s right\nNot too much to live for, nigga\nYeah, get in they ass, son!\nNever been concerned with names\nI ain’t try’nna go up in flames\nAnd I ain’t try’nna go insane\nNow, 'fore you motherfuckers throw my life away\nWelcome to Wild West Brighton, the only borough in New York\nKillin’Rasco, I paint a bloodbath like Picasso\nStaten Island G.I., in the pussy, knee high\nYou’se have now been awakened out the coma\nBy the son of a wounded soldier\nMotherfuckers is dead, smell the aroma\nThat’s federal crime, regulators\nKnown to spend a pretty penny with the gun dealers\nI’ll sneak up on your bitch ass, broad day like the killers\nWe get emotional, nigga, don’t get scared now, nigga\nI’m home now nigga with weight like Bonecrusher\nAnd I Ain’t Never Scared, homey, I’ll have ya bitch ass\nWheeping and bending down, homey\nSo dress warm, cause the casket, look like it get lonely\nStraight forward, music for thugs, bloods, crips and killers\nTry’nna reach us on receivers, Nexus, I come equipped with four fifths\nThat’ll give you a seizure, literally, dog, give you a seizure\nLive amongst snakes and vultures, collateral damage\nDesert eagle in the hosters, time to rebuild\nWith family superstars on FBI’s wanted posters\nFuck a bodyguard, I’m purchasing a pair of twin toasters\nAnd for the record, there’s pork in Hostess\nWith so many trials, I’m try’nna stay focused\nN.W.O., fuck the world, New World Order\nEasy nigga, give me order, worth the blood\nHold it down, twenty four/seven, and listen pa'\nAin’t nothing to gain, we got unlimited guns\nAnd just cause I’m a pusher, daddy, ain’t nothing stopping my bankfunds\nGuerillas with magnums, listen, get a hole in my paper\nOr find yourself slumped over, gargling blood like Bill Cosby’s son\nNothing to lose, parolee on the run, for sure\nRead about it, in the Metro section, all eyes on the prophet\nYa’ll niggaz better watch the prophet\nYeah, for sure, nigga\nYeah, you heard him, that\nIt’s gonna be a lot of slow singing\nThe flower bringing, my burglar alarm starts ringing\nMotherfucker