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69 Boyz - Survival of Da Fittest lyrics
help requested on rasta chorus Verse 1 The Rottweiler: 17 years old, bold, tryin' to get my slang on Broke as a joke, uh, tryin' my best to hang on And if I don't, I'll be a failure And I'll tell ya, I ain't with that, so forget that! I get the 9 from the pawn shop layaway Keep it in my pack and the jack men'll stay away Fellas gettin' jealous, hate to see a nigga rise up They tryin' to size up, but punk nigga, wise up! I pack my 9, yeah, I'm fine, and I chill with it Shoot 'em in a minute and just deal with it 'Cause where I'm from, you gotta buck niggas, If you never want to be an out-of-luck nigga I only did what I had to do Now they're callin' me the king of the avenue Uhh, I'm shootin' my 9 when I bail 'Cause I'd rather go to hell than jail 'Cause it's survival of the fittest Thrill Da Playa: Yo, it was rough from the start, son And I knew I'd be a hustler, even when I was in kindergarten Feelin' on the teachers and givin' 'em looks And steady takin' all the other kids' coloring books My momma used to try to make me study my work But I was busy chasin' girls, gettin' under they skirts And though she raised me the best she could, Them whippin's ain't done me no good And sure, I could play ball like the rest of the guys, But yo, I always had this fear of gettin' paralyzed And sellin' drugs at the time was the easy way The easy work, easy women plus the easy pay It had me feelin' like I would do whatever it takes To have a car and a woman in a couple of states Cause I'm a professional, and you couldn't knock it Because I had to keep some money in my pocket It's survival of the fittest [Rasta chorus] Verse 2 The Rottweiler: When I was comin' up and runnin' up, The hoochies in my hood never took time, so I took mine And I thought it would change, and when I got older They just got colder, and gave me the cold shoulder But now them hoes wanna skeeze me Just because they see my face on TV, uhh Them hoes be buggin'; they come a-dime-a-dozen I'm even doin' it with my own cousin I got hoes 'cause I'm so rich, nigga Never get played and laid by no trick, nigga They only speak 'cause a brother done peeped strong I muss my hair like Fred and get the hell on I gots no love for them hoes, and if I did it'd be a drama, 'Cause, trick, I only love my momma And never have I sold a yard But I'd do it if times got hard 'Cause it's survival of the fittest Thrill Da Playa: Comin' up daily, gettin' richer than rich And all the fellas in the hood just itchin' to snitch But I got my stuff runnin' so tight and legit That the fans can't even make a spirit to stick So yo, they can go and find another dealer to fade; I got a business in my name, and my taxes is paid They only mad 'cause they bussin' they chops To say that I'm a millionaire because I'm cuttin' them rocks They can't *fuck* with that, and even when they think they can, I got a set-up so they only get the metal man! I can't see bein' a letter to them And locked up just because I'm doin' better than them I tried the right way, but they kept ignorin' me Saw opportunity, and I went for it, G! It was smooth and the feds couldn't match me But now that I'm legit, yo, I know they'll never catch me It's survival of the fittest [Rasta chorus] Verse 3 The Rottweiler: Uhhh, and ow that I'm straight with the law, I'm makin' more money than I ever saw But still, my 9's what I'm alive by I'm never slippin' to be a victim of a drive-by But it's still kind of crazy If I spend two seconds with a girl, she's claimin' she's havin' a baby And all my girlfriends are black, and they act rude But if I dated another color, they'd get an attitude And my moms ... yo, bless her soul Alive, and bustin' her ass before 25 Got a brother in a rage, uh, she ain't a minimum woman, So why the hell she makin' minimum wage? I try to give her money, but she won't take it She says she hates it; she doesn't like the way I make it I thank the Lord I'm alive. All I have to do is survive 'Cause it's survival of the fittest Thrill Da Playa: I know the feelin', I can keep my poise I got beepers, and all types of digital toys And I know they think that I am sellin' dope And wanna keep me underneath the microscope So they can try and take what's mine But I'll burn it to shreds, before they get one dime And to them, it's a hurtin' fact Because it's all insured, so yo, I'm gonna get it right back And yeah, they lookin' like dummies They waste they time, plus they waste they taxpayers' money So put away your house-raidin' tactics, Shotguns, ski-masks, and windbreaker jackets 'Cause ain't no doors gettin' kicked down And if it is ... then I suggest you skip town Becuase my lawyer's so good, I hope you're packed up; In the morning, you'll be sleepin' in Alaska It's survival of the fittest [Rasta chorus |
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