The Chosen Few (Live for This) Lyrics
| Song | The Chosen Few (Live for This) |
| Artist | Boot Camp Clik |
| Album | The Chosen Few |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Blake, Dixon, Matlock, McNair ... | |
| ( VERSE 1: Starang Wondah ) | |
| Hey yo, I remember Paula, a female baller | |
| We hit down south, I would call her | |
| She was lonely, strippin, had a job at the Shoneys | |
| The only one who showed me the real from the phoneys | |
| Stayed hangin out with her best friend Tony | |
| Eyes stayed red with a head full of pony | |
| Always jokin sayin she wish she could clone me | |
| Actin all friendly, I hooked her up with Henny | |
| ( VERSE 2: Louieville ) | |
| Then she told me for me and Foul to come OT | |
| You know me, baby girl, show me the money | |
| Doin 90 down 95 South | |
| If we don't move it out, then the town'll have a drought | |
| Pushin, pedal to the metal | |
| Once we get there the worries'll get settled | |
| Chillin, fallin back for the week with | |
| Money that counts and shorty bop's a freak | |
| Toast to the dogs in the war | |
| The one's who've been there, through rich and the poor | |
| This bitch gotta twist up and hit | |
| Aiin't that some shit, I gotta ask, ain't that a bitch | |
| But a nigga gotta keep the shit rollin | |
| Keep the shit potent, Hennyville stay smokin | |
| And a nigga ain't crackin no jokes | |
| Smackin up your folks | |
| Cause a nigga know broke | |
| ( VERSE 3: Sean Price ) | |
| Hey yo, I rhyme all day, I rhyme all night | |
| I got to sleep, wake up, and rhyme some more | |
| Starvin like Marvin, niggas screamin, "I'm so poor" | |
| Hit records, bangin videos but I'm so poor | |
| Yo, can I hold somethin? I'm fucked up, duke | |
| You can tell by my jeans and my scuffed up boots | |
| In the meantime, smoke a Newport down to the green line | |
| Leave mine alone in the zone tryin to feed mine | |
| Know y'all hope Sean fall with the words | |
| Fuck you pa, Pope John, call him the Third | |
| Follow the god, bitches wanna swallow the god | |
| Hit my man off worse than you can polish the god | |
| ( Tek ) | |
| I told you to walk with me | |
| You wanna lose your money, gamble with me | |
| But if you all about your paper, hustle with me | |
| Then come on | |
| Come on | |
| Listen | |
| Listen | |
| ( VERSE 4: Tek ) | |
| All I need is one night, one whore, one million dollar score | |
| Tell God to look out for one more | |
| Matter of fact maybe more than one | |
| So I can kick my feet up and sit down my gun | |
| Just gimme one line, one role, complete with one lick | |
| And one motion, collect it all from 1-6 | |
| This a painting of the barrio I'm givin to you | |
| Readin a lifestyle a Harry-O see in his views | |
| I'm tatted, only God can judge me, I know that I'm ugly | |
| Who's my enemies and who don't love me? | |
| My young'uns and my family all know that they could | |
| Call the crib, same number, same hood, it all good | |
| ( VERSE 5: Buckshot ) | |
| I say it now like I said it back then | |
| Bucktown's the state of mind that I'm trapped in | |
| So I walk with the mind of many | |
| My mind is designed to put rhymes in lines combined with semis | |
| Spray any, plus I got the brain of a soldier | |
| My son started but I stay till it's over | |
| We click-click-click, it's Hamburger Hill | |
| And saving Private Ryan out this bitch | |
| I'm tryin to chill but we dyin quick | |
| So my tactic to survive is a practice | |
| Killin gus with my eyes, so how real am I? | |
| And even if I'm finna fly I don't look the part | |
| Cause in my hood we seperate the ballers and the crooks apart | |
| ( VERSE 6: Steele ) | |
| Ghetto livin, parallel to prisons | |
| Cursed soul, from hell I've risen | |
| We rebel from the system, Bloomberg cuttin millions from children | |
| So we resort to the streets, I walk with my peeps | |
| OG's responsible for my speech | |
| Co-D's make me comfortable enough to preach | |
| Tony Montana was deep, we all follow the script | |
| Recipe to turn powder to bricks | |
| Devour the script, the game the same, the players change | |
| Homie, you gotta maintain if you wanna remain | |
| Let God give guidance, may the hood provide us | |
| With the necessities to get by this | |
| Niggas fallin victim to mirages | |
| We rep the hardest but the sweat gon' drip regardless | |
| Behind enemy lines we chargin | |
| The traget: gettin at all you niggas in the market | |
| Got trees, spark it, got B's, then park it | |
| Bucktown, where all the d's like to hawk us | |
| Walk what you talk and gotta stay focused | |
| Beware of this rap industry and the hocus pocus | |
| Many are called, few are chosen | |
| I choose to die for a cause and ride with my soldiers | |
| Many are called, few are chosen | |
| I choose to die for a cause and ride with my soldiers | |
| ( all ) | |
| We live for this, we die for this | |
| Since some for die for this, we ride for this |
| zuo ci : Blake, Dixon, Matlock, McNair ... | |
| VERSE 1: Starang Wondah | |
| Hey yo, I remember Paula, a female baller | |
| We hit down south, I would call her | |
| She was lonely, strippin, had a job at the Shoneys | |
| The only one who showed me the real from the phoneys | |
| Stayed hangin out with her best friend Tony | |
| Eyes stayed red with a head full of pony | |
| Always jokin sayin she wish she could clone me | |
| Actin all friendly, I hooked her up with Henny | |
| VERSE 2: Louieville | |
| Then she told me for me and Foul to come OT | |
| You know me, baby girl, show me the money | |
| Doin 90 down 95 South | |
| If we don' t move it out, then the town' ll have a drought | |
| Pushin, pedal to the metal | |
| Once we get there the worries' ll get settled | |
| Chillin, fallin back for the week with | |
| Money that counts and shorty bop' s a freak | |
| Toast to the dogs in the war | |
| The one' s who' ve been there, through rich and the poor | |
| This bitch gotta twist up and hit | |
| Aiin' t that some shit, I gotta ask, ain' t that a bitch | |
| But a nigga gotta keep the shit rollin | |
| Keep the shit potent, Hennyville stay smokin | |
| And a nigga ain' t crackin no jokes | |
| Smackin up your folks | |
| Cause a nigga know broke | |
| VERSE 3: Sean Price | |
| Hey yo, I rhyme all day, I rhyme all night | |
| I got to sleep, wake up, and rhyme some more | |
| Starvin like Marvin, niggas screamin, " I' m so poor" | |
| Hit records, bangin videos but I' m so poor | |
| Yo, can I hold somethin? I' m fucked up, duke | |
| You can tell by my jeans and my scuffed up boots | |
| In the meantime, smoke a Newport down to the green line | |
| Leave mine alone in the zone tryin to feed mine | |
| Know y' all hope Sean fall with the words | |
| Fuck you pa, Pope John, call him the Third | |
| Follow the god, bitches wanna swallow the god | |
| Hit my man off worse than you can polish the god | |
| Tek | |
| I told you to walk with me | |
| You wanna lose your money, gamble with me | |
| But if you all about your paper, hustle with me | |
| Then come on | |
| Come on | |
| Listen | |
| Listen | |
| VERSE 4: Tek | |
| All I need is one night, one whore, one million dollar score | |
| Tell God to look out for one more | |
| Matter of fact maybe more than one | |
| So I can kick my feet up and sit down my gun | |
| Just gimme one line, one role, complete with one lick | |
| And one motion, collect it all from 16 | |
| This a painting of the barrio I' m givin to you | |
| Readin a lifestyle a HarryO see in his views | |
| I' m tatted, only God can judge me, I know that I' m ugly | |
| Who' s my enemies and who don' t love me? | |
| My young' uns and my family all know that they could | |
| Call the crib, same number, same hood, it all good | |
| VERSE 5: Buckshot | |
| I say it now like I said it back then | |
| Bucktown' s the state of mind that I' m trapped in | |
| So I walk with the mind of many | |
| My mind is designed to put rhymes in lines combined with semis | |
| Spray any, plus I got the brain of a soldier | |
| My son started but I stay till it' s over | |
| We clickclickclick, it' s Hamburger Hill | |
| And saving Private Ryan out this bitch | |
| I' m tryin to chill but we dyin quick | |
| So my tactic to survive is a practice | |
| Killin gus with my eyes, so how real am I? | |
| And even if I' m finna fly I don' t look the part | |
| Cause in my hood we seperate the ballers and the crooks apart | |
| VERSE 6: Steele | |
| Ghetto livin, parallel to prisons | |
| Cursed soul, from hell I' ve risen | |
| We rebel from the system, Bloomberg cuttin millions from children | |
| So we resort to the streets, I walk with my peeps | |
| OG' s responsible for my speech | |
| CoD' s make me comfortable enough to preach | |
| Tony Montana was deep, we all follow the script | |
| Recipe to turn powder to bricks | |
| Devour the script, the game the same, the players change | |
| Homie, you gotta maintain if you wanna remain | |
| Let God give guidance, may the hood provide us | |
| With the necessities to get by this | |
| Niggas fallin victim to mirages | |
| We rep the hardest but the sweat gon' drip regardless | |
| Behind enemy lines we chargin | |
| The traget: gettin at all you niggas in the market | |
| Got trees, spark it, got B' s, then park it | |
| Bucktown, where all the d' s like to hawk us | |
| Walk what you talk and gotta stay focused | |
| Beware of this rap industry and the hocus pocus | |
| Many are called, few are chosen | |
| I choose to die for a cause and ride with my soldiers | |
| Many are called, few are chosen | |
| I choose to die for a cause and ride with my soldiers | |
| all | |
| We live for this, we die for this | |
| Since some for die for this, we ride for this |
| zuò cí : Blake, Dixon, Matlock, McNair ... | |
| VERSE 1: Starang Wondah | |
| Hey yo, I remember Paula, a female baller | |
| We hit down south, I would call her | |
| She was lonely, strippin, had a job at the Shoneys | |
| The only one who showed me the real from the phoneys | |
| Stayed hangin out with her best friend Tony | |
| Eyes stayed red with a head full of pony | |
| Always jokin sayin she wish she could clone me | |
| Actin all friendly, I hooked her up with Henny | |
| VERSE 2: Louieville | |
| Then she told me for me and Foul to come OT | |
| You know me, baby girl, show me the money | |
| Doin 90 down 95 South | |
| If we don' t move it out, then the town' ll have a drought | |
| Pushin, pedal to the metal | |
| Once we get there the worries' ll get settled | |
| Chillin, fallin back for the week with | |
| Money that counts and shorty bop' s a freak | |
| Toast to the dogs in the war | |
| The one' s who' ve been there, through rich and the poor | |
| This bitch gotta twist up and hit | |
| Aiin' t that some shit, I gotta ask, ain' t that a bitch | |
| But a nigga gotta keep the shit rollin | |
| Keep the shit potent, Hennyville stay smokin | |
| And a nigga ain' t crackin no jokes | |
| Smackin up your folks | |
| Cause a nigga know broke | |
| VERSE 3: Sean Price | |
| Hey yo, I rhyme all day, I rhyme all night | |
| I got to sleep, wake up, and rhyme some more | |
| Starvin like Marvin, niggas screamin, " I' m so poor" | |
| Hit records, bangin videos but I' m so poor | |
| Yo, can I hold somethin? I' m fucked up, duke | |
| You can tell by my jeans and my scuffed up boots | |
| In the meantime, smoke a Newport down to the green line | |
| Leave mine alone in the zone tryin to feed mine | |
| Know y' all hope Sean fall with the words | |
| Fuck you pa, Pope John, call him the Third | |
| Follow the god, bitches wanna swallow the god | |
| Hit my man off worse than you can polish the god | |
| Tek | |
| I told you to walk with me | |
| You wanna lose your money, gamble with me | |
| But if you all about your paper, hustle with me | |
| Then come on | |
| Come on | |
| Listen | |
| Listen | |
| VERSE 4: Tek | |
| All I need is one night, one whore, one million dollar score | |
| Tell God to look out for one more | |
| Matter of fact maybe more than one | |
| So I can kick my feet up and sit down my gun | |
| Just gimme one line, one role, complete with one lick | |
| And one motion, collect it all from 16 | |
| This a painting of the barrio I' m givin to you | |
| Readin a lifestyle a HarryO see in his views | |
| I' m tatted, only God can judge me, I know that I' m ugly | |
| Who' s my enemies and who don' t love me? | |
| My young' uns and my family all know that they could | |
| Call the crib, same number, same hood, it all good | |
| VERSE 5: Buckshot | |
| I say it now like I said it back then | |
| Bucktown' s the state of mind that I' m trapped in | |
| So I walk with the mind of many | |
| My mind is designed to put rhymes in lines combined with semis | |
| Spray any, plus I got the brain of a soldier | |
| My son started but I stay till it' s over | |
| We clickclickclick, it' s Hamburger Hill | |
| And saving Private Ryan out this bitch | |
| I' m tryin to chill but we dyin quick | |
| So my tactic to survive is a practice | |
| Killin gus with my eyes, so how real am I? | |
| And even if I' m finna fly I don' t look the part | |
| Cause in my hood we seperate the ballers and the crooks apart | |
| VERSE 6: Steele | |
| Ghetto livin, parallel to prisons | |
| Cursed soul, from hell I' ve risen | |
| We rebel from the system, Bloomberg cuttin millions from children | |
| So we resort to the streets, I walk with my peeps | |
| OG' s responsible for my speech | |
| CoD' s make me comfortable enough to preach | |
| Tony Montana was deep, we all follow the script | |
| Recipe to turn powder to bricks | |
| Devour the script, the game the same, the players change | |
| Homie, you gotta maintain if you wanna remain | |
| Let God give guidance, may the hood provide us | |
| With the necessities to get by this | |
| Niggas fallin victim to mirages | |
| We rep the hardest but the sweat gon' drip regardless | |
| Behind enemy lines we chargin | |
| The traget: gettin at all you niggas in the market | |
| Got trees, spark it, got B' s, then park it | |
| Bucktown, where all the d' s like to hawk us | |
| Walk what you talk and gotta stay focused | |
| Beware of this rap industry and the hocus pocus | |
| Many are called, few are chosen | |
| I choose to die for a cause and ride with my soldiers | |
| Many are called, few are chosen | |
| I choose to die for a cause and ride with my soldiers | |
| all | |
| We live for this, we die for this | |
| Since some for die for this, we ride for this |
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