Live

Lyrics for Live

Is it live, live, live, live, live? Is it live, live, live, live, live? Is it live, live, live, live, live? I heard your CD is wack, wasn't fuckin impressed Who's the nigga with the big mouth? I leave your ass out wrecked and bit off with a lion mouth Your hype man sound like a bitch that switched Y'all niggas need to be around when my dick itch Yo TNT, these niggas actin wild like they homo But they tryin to see me, fuck it I'ma pull up in a Ford van, let these niggas Know I'ma give 'em a permanent suntan Walk in your studio session Damage your crew in the vocal booth with a .38 Smith and Wesson Dr. Doom on your intercom, pressin Your door all night with a fuckin bomb I'ma move the tattoos off all these MC's Let me make a sandwich first with government cheese Uncle Black got a new sawed off When them booty kids show, we gon' blast they ass off Niggas be mean muggin, wide-eyed, smokin that dust I'ma send Tony Lou with a bazooka, blow smoke in they tour bus And they yellin "This beat's classic!" I got a wig on, them city boys, they gon' recognize all four of us Kay and Jon with 50 cousins from the Bolden family We rollin amped, G What the fuck y'all talkin about? I'm movin a different route Grab the carbines from under the couch See you on the ferris wheel at Coney Island, I'm not gon' be smilin Magnum wait for your ass, y'all gon' see my face, fuck a mask Is it live, live, live, live, live? Is it live, live, live, live, live? Is it live, live, live, live, live? Is it live, live, live, live, live? Smearin your mailbox with peanut butter And jelly with pickles from the deli Black shoe polish on your glass table, I'm ready and able Goin on the roof when the pay-per- View fight, come on, clip off your cable Harass you to move, leave a poison sick Rat crawlin slow around your toilet stool While you scream, "Fuck you!" I'm across the street eatin Popeye's cajun Rice in the Station Wagon with high beams Takin a coffee break back in the house givin your Chiwawa's Ex-Lax with a hot bowl of Quaker State Leavin the front room, droppin bombs On your fur coat with a box of kaboom Watchin the Mets, puttin shit on your TV sets in the shower You won't be able to watch the program With remote controls for 70 hours Check out your sore ribs The screen is gritty, everybody startin to look green on Rap City Take your receipt, give your wallet with 900 bucks All your credit cards to a retarded kid in a wheelchair Comin up the street, walkin by the main avenue I'm passin you with a leather coat that look similar to yours Fuck you! You lookin at me, I'm startin to walk up behind you Actin like I'm payin no mind to you Talkin to policemen chewin on Almond Joy by a black and white squad car With binoculars, watchin you very far (What's up motherfuckers?) Is it live, live, live, live, live? Is it live, live, live, live, live? Is it live, live, live, live, live? Is it live, live, live, live, live? Is it live, live, live, live, live?