Life Bid Lyrics
| Song | Life Bid |
| Artist | GP Wu |
| Album | Don't Go Against the Grain |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Barry, Booker, Briggs, Wilson | |
| Breathe out, breathe in, breathe out | |
| Yo yo hold on hold on hold on hold on hold on hold on hold on | |
| Before we do that, before we do that before we do that | |
| Let my man burn, let my man burn real quick | |
| This is for the ladies you know cause niggas be sayin we don't be lookin out | |
| I want y'all to feel this a little somethin | |
| And if y'all know the song, no no no dis- | |
| If y'all know the song, sing along, it's a remix, word up, check it (Remix for who?) | |
| For G.P., for | |
| G.P. nigga | |
| Don't be disrespectful nigga | |
| G.P. nigga (aiiight, aiiight, talk about it) | |
| Last night | |
| You sucked somethin special outta me (What? A fuckin nut?) | |
| Uh huh And for the first time | |
| I got my dick sucked for free (What, for free?) | |
| Uh huh Check out what she told me tho, she said | |
| She said do you want me to use protection | |
| I told the bitch of course | |
| But you can still lick my balls | |
| She said Pop can | |
| I ask your black ass one more question | |
| I told her hell no | |
| Last night (what she do, what she do) | |
| You sucked somethin special outta me (Aiiight aiiight now, where we leave off at) [Rubberbands] | |
| Niggas callin theyself the shit, packin full clips in a whip | |
| Drivin hip hop right off a cliff | |
| Goin nowhere, fantasizin with the art | |
| When I retire my first album'll still be up on the charts | |
| With a bullet, saw my mom screamin for the rest of my life | |
| I can't rap, she can kill that | |
| She don't know about the | |
| Illuminati soldiers | |
| Sometimes it feels like | |
| I got the weight of the world on my shoulders | |
| Misguided ones on the block slingin boulders | |
| Eighteen years old and got criminal records instead of diplomas | |
| Goin nowhere fast | |
| Right into a brick wall, the road is wet so we crash | |
| About the whip and dip before | |
| I had you can | |
| Sayin maybe it wouldn't have happened if | |
| I was sober | |
| Or wishin that | |
| I could live my whole life over | |
| But I'm a | |
| Libra so I sit back and look forward to | |
| October We got the hits, tracks that make you flip your lids | |
| G.P. bout to do this life bid in this business [Down Low Recka] | |
| We stay true, the | |
| G.P. debut | |
| Smacks you, lyrically attacks you and your crew | |
| Up against the wall and turn your metals into copper | |
| A real hip hopper, think nada, don't matter | |
| You might be phatter, but what it takes | |
| I don't see it in ya | |
| My whole click about to get into shit | |
| Brothers comin up as slaves | |
| Learnin how to use brainwaves to control paydays | |
| Niggas like us with magic stays | |
| While the car hustlers get grazed and nosy cats strays | |
| You can't last in a billion dollar world | |
| Tryin to get a billion dollar girl | |
| Doin big B- | |
| I lookin dead into my future | |
| Keep up cause you'll hate me if | |
| I lose ya | |
| We got the hits, tracks that make you flip your lids | |
| G.P. bout to do this life bid in this business | |
| Hit son, the one you thought was number one | |
| Is now number two to my crew [Pop The Brown Hornet] | |
| Puff puff give, | |
| G.P. got to live | |
| We been rhymin on the mic ever since we was kids | |
| And now we full grown, callin shots with no phone | |
| The wick's been lit leavin the rap world blown | |
| Beyond repair, beats thick like peasy hair | |
| Rap heads love me like alcoholics love beer | |
| We's a perfect combo, save the bullshit convo | |
| You beatin me that's like the | |
| Knicks beatin | |
| Chicago Can't happen, captain caught a ticket for speed rappin | |
| But they droppin charges cause | |
| I kept the crowd clappin | |
| No we goin platinum, | |
| Rerun, what's happenin | |
| Takin the world by storm like the | |
| Jacksons Shit, you better search for the | |
| G.P. logo | |
| If you want that bomb ass shit that drives you loco | |
| RNS and DL | |
| R I touch it up with the lyrics watch the shit go far | |
| My destiny's comfortability | |
| Playin up not too far from military artillary | |
| Not for manos but for protection | |
| A lot of cats got the venom in em and | |
| I'ma pop em [June Luva] | |
| I got plenty niggas down for whatever | |
| Sewin up stitchin up projects whatever | |
| Do or die situations you be facin | |
| Goin up against the | |
| Grain nigga feel the pain | |
| My soldiers they lined up ready to bust with no fuss | |
| Keepin it real, it gats we trust | |
| Niggas be under pressure when | |
| I'm stompin | |
| Run things from | |
| New York to | |
| Compton And all the crews inbetween (why's that June) | |
| I don't know | |
| All I know is they got to go | |
| Cause they can stop the show from goin on, it must succeed | |
| If not the next man bleeds | |
| We got the hits, tracks that make you flip your lids | |
| G.P. bout to do this life bid in this business | |
| Hit son, the one you thought was number one | |
| Is now number two to my crew | |
| The hits, tracks that make you flip your lids | |
| G.P. bout to do this life bid in this business | |
| Hit son, the one you thought was number one | |
| Is now number two to my crew |
| zuo qu : Barry, Booker, Briggs, Wilson | |
| Breathe out, breathe in, breathe out | |
| Yo yo hold on hold on hold on hold on hold on hold on hold on | |
| Before we do that, before we do that before we do that | |
| Let my man burn, let my man burn real quick | |
| This is for the ladies you know cause niggas be sayin we don' t be lookin out | |
| I want y' all to feel this a little somethin | |
| And if y' all know the song, no no no dis | |
| If y' all know the song, sing along, it' s a remix, word up, check it Remix for who? | |
| For G. P., for | |
| G. P. nigga | |
| Don' t be disrespectful nigga | |
| G. P. nigga aiiight, aiiight, talk about it | |
| Last night | |
| You sucked somethin special outta me What? A fuckin nut? | |
| Uh huh And for the first time | |
| I got my dick sucked for free What, for free? | |
| Uh huh Check out what she told me tho, she said | |
| She said do you want me to use protection | |
| I told the bitch of course | |
| But you can still lick my balls | |
| She said Pop can | |
| I ask your black ass one more question | |
| I told her hell no | |
| Last night what she do, what she do | |
| You sucked somethin special outta me Aiiight aiiight now, where we leave off at Rubberbands | |
| Niggas callin theyself the shit, packin full clips in a whip | |
| Drivin hip hop right off a cliff | |
| Goin nowhere, fantasizin with the art | |
| When I retire my first album' ll still be up on the charts | |
| With a bullet, saw my mom screamin for the rest of my life | |
| I can' t rap, she can kill that | |
| She don' t know about the | |
| Illuminati soldiers | |
| Sometimes it feels like | |
| I got the weight of the world on my shoulders | |
| Misguided ones on the block slingin boulders | |
| Eighteen years old and got criminal records instead of diplomas | |
| Goin nowhere fast | |
| Right into a brick wall, the road is wet so we crash | |
| About the whip and dip before | |
| I had you can | |
| Sayin maybe it wouldn' t have happened if | |
| I was sober | |
| Or wishin that | |
| I could live my whole life over | |
| But I' m a | |
| Libra so I sit back and look forward to | |
| October We got the hits, tracks that make you flip your lids | |
| G. P. bout to do this life bid in this business Down Low Recka | |
| We stay true, the | |
| G. P. debut | |
| Smacks you, lyrically attacks you and your crew | |
| Up against the wall and turn your metals into copper | |
| A real hip hopper, think nada, don' t matter | |
| You might be phatter, but what it takes | |
| I don' t see it in ya | |
| My whole click about to get into shit | |
| Brothers comin up as slaves | |
| Learnin how to use brainwaves to control paydays | |
| Niggas like us with magic stays | |
| While the car hustlers get grazed and nosy cats strays | |
| You can' t last in a billion dollar world | |
| Tryin to get a billion dollar girl | |
| Doin big B | |
| I lookin dead into my future | |
| Keep up cause you' ll hate me if | |
| I lose ya | |
| We got the hits, tracks that make you flip your lids | |
| G. P. bout to do this life bid in this business | |
| Hit son, the one you thought was number one | |
| Is now number two to my crew Pop The Brown Hornet | |
| Puff puff give, | |
| G. P. got to live | |
| We been rhymin on the mic ever since we was kids | |
| And now we full grown, callin shots with no phone | |
| The wick' s been lit leavin the rap world blown | |
| Beyond repair, beats thick like peasy hair | |
| Rap heads love me like alcoholics love beer | |
| We' s a perfect combo, save the bullshit convo | |
| You beatin me that' s like the | |
| Knicks beatin | |
| Chicago Can' t happen, captain caught a ticket for speed rappin | |
| But they droppin charges cause | |
| I kept the crowd clappin | |
| No we goin platinum, | |
| Rerun, what' s happenin | |
| Takin the world by storm like the | |
| Jacksons Shit, you better search for the | |
| G. P. logo | |
| If you want that bomb ass shit that drives you loco | |
| RNS and DL | |
| R I touch it up with the lyrics watch the shit go far | |
| My destiny' s comfortability | |
| Playin up not too far from military artillary | |
| Not for manos but for protection | |
| A lot of cats got the venom in em and | |
| I' ma pop em June Luva | |
| I got plenty niggas down for whatever | |
| Sewin up stitchin up projects whatever | |
| Do or die situations you be facin | |
| Goin up against the | |
| Grain nigga feel the pain | |
| My soldiers they lined up ready to bust with no fuss | |
| Keepin it real, it gats we trust | |
| Niggas be under pressure when | |
| I' m stompin | |
| Run things from | |
| New York to | |
| Compton And all the crews inbetween why' s that June | |
| I don' t know | |
| All I know is they got to go | |
| Cause they can stop the show from goin on, it must succeed | |
| If not the next man bleeds | |
| We got the hits, tracks that make you flip your lids | |
| G. P. bout to do this life bid in this business | |
| Hit son, the one you thought was number one | |
| Is now number two to my crew | |
| The hits, tracks that make you flip your lids | |
| G. P. bout to do this life bid in this business | |
| Hit son, the one you thought was number one | |
| Is now number two to my crew |
| zuò qǔ : Barry, Booker, Briggs, Wilson | |
| Breathe out, breathe in, breathe out | |
| Yo yo hold on hold on hold on hold on hold on hold on hold on | |
| Before we do that, before we do that before we do that | |
| Let my man burn, let my man burn real quick | |
| This is for the ladies you know cause niggas be sayin we don' t be lookin out | |
| I want y' all to feel this a little somethin | |
| And if y' all know the song, no no no dis | |
| If y' all know the song, sing along, it' s a remix, word up, check it Remix for who? | |
| For G. P., for | |
| G. P. nigga | |
| Don' t be disrespectful nigga | |
| G. P. nigga aiiight, aiiight, talk about it | |
| Last night | |
| You sucked somethin special outta me What? A fuckin nut? | |
| Uh huh And for the first time | |
| I got my dick sucked for free What, for free? | |
| Uh huh Check out what she told me tho, she said | |
| She said do you want me to use protection | |
| I told the bitch of course | |
| But you can still lick my balls | |
| She said Pop can | |
| I ask your black ass one more question | |
| I told her hell no | |
| Last night what she do, what she do | |
| You sucked somethin special outta me Aiiight aiiight now, where we leave off at Rubberbands | |
| Niggas callin theyself the shit, packin full clips in a whip | |
| Drivin hip hop right off a cliff | |
| Goin nowhere, fantasizin with the art | |
| When I retire my first album' ll still be up on the charts | |
| With a bullet, saw my mom screamin for the rest of my life | |
| I can' t rap, she can kill that | |
| She don' t know about the | |
| Illuminati soldiers | |
| Sometimes it feels like | |
| I got the weight of the world on my shoulders | |
| Misguided ones on the block slingin boulders | |
| Eighteen years old and got criminal records instead of diplomas | |
| Goin nowhere fast | |
| Right into a brick wall, the road is wet so we crash | |
| About the whip and dip before | |
| I had you can | |
| Sayin maybe it wouldn' t have happened if | |
| I was sober | |
| Or wishin that | |
| I could live my whole life over | |
| But I' m a | |
| Libra so I sit back and look forward to | |
| October We got the hits, tracks that make you flip your lids | |
| G. P. bout to do this life bid in this business Down Low Recka | |
| We stay true, the | |
| G. P. debut | |
| Smacks you, lyrically attacks you and your crew | |
| Up against the wall and turn your metals into copper | |
| A real hip hopper, think nada, don' t matter | |
| You might be phatter, but what it takes | |
| I don' t see it in ya | |
| My whole click about to get into shit | |
| Brothers comin up as slaves | |
| Learnin how to use brainwaves to control paydays | |
| Niggas like us with magic stays | |
| While the car hustlers get grazed and nosy cats strays | |
| You can' t last in a billion dollar world | |
| Tryin to get a billion dollar girl | |
| Doin big B | |
| I lookin dead into my future | |
| Keep up cause you' ll hate me if | |
| I lose ya | |
| We got the hits, tracks that make you flip your lids | |
| G. P. bout to do this life bid in this business | |
| Hit son, the one you thought was number one | |
| Is now number two to my crew Pop The Brown Hornet | |
| Puff puff give, | |
| G. P. got to live | |
| We been rhymin on the mic ever since we was kids | |
| And now we full grown, callin shots with no phone | |
| The wick' s been lit leavin the rap world blown | |
| Beyond repair, beats thick like peasy hair | |
| Rap heads love me like alcoholics love beer | |
| We' s a perfect combo, save the bullshit convo | |
| You beatin me that' s like the | |
| Knicks beatin | |
| Chicago Can' t happen, captain caught a ticket for speed rappin | |
| But they droppin charges cause | |
| I kept the crowd clappin | |
| No we goin platinum, | |
| Rerun, what' s happenin | |
| Takin the world by storm like the | |
| Jacksons Shit, you better search for the | |
| G. P. logo | |
| If you want that bomb ass shit that drives you loco | |
| RNS and DL | |
| R I touch it up with the lyrics watch the shit go far | |
| My destiny' s comfortability | |
| Playin up not too far from military artillary | |
| Not for manos but for protection | |
| A lot of cats got the venom in em and | |
| I' ma pop em June Luva | |
| I got plenty niggas down for whatever | |
| Sewin up stitchin up projects whatever | |
| Do or die situations you be facin | |
| Goin up against the | |
| Grain nigga feel the pain | |
| My soldiers they lined up ready to bust with no fuss | |
| Keepin it real, it gats we trust | |
| Niggas be under pressure when | |
| I' m stompin | |
| Run things from | |
| New York to | |
| Compton And all the crews inbetween why' s that June | |
| I don' t know | |
| All I know is they got to go | |
| Cause they can stop the show from goin on, it must succeed | |
| If not the next man bleeds | |
| We got the hits, tracks that make you flip your lids | |
| G. P. bout to do this life bid in this business | |
| Hit son, the one you thought was number one | |
| Is now number two to my crew | |
| The hits, tracks that make you flip your lids | |
| G. P. bout to do this life bid in this business | |
| Hit son, the one you thought was number one | |
| Is now number two to my crew |
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