Role of a Lifetime Lyrics
| Song | Role of a Lifetime |
| Artist | Cappadonna |
| Album | The Struggle |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Amorelli | |
| (feat. Solomon Childs) | |
| (Intro: Cappadonna) | |
| Homicide Hill, S.I., New York City | |
| Slow your roll, it's my word | |
| Slap all ya niggaz, I hate ya'll | |
| Aiyo, aiyo | |
| (Cappadonna) | |
| These streets got the best of me, my lifestyle's corrupt | |
| It's jakes lookin' for Don, and I don't give a fuck | |
| Cuz my niggaz be on the block, ready to rock | |
| We got big bags of ready on us, one glock | |
| Feds makin' it hot, so I dipped off | |
| I smoke the ill idiot shit like Malakoff | |
| Me and my thug niggaz, too chipped off | |
| Staten Island be the land of the lost | |
| You can't front, you can't floss | |
| S.I. New York City, the burnt out apartments, the hallways that's gritty | |
| It's a pity we livin' this shit, cracks under my dick | |
| Feel my pain, if you know about this shit | |
| Dope in the toilet, money in the mattress | |
| We keep ratchets, and like niggaz up north, we fuck a fat bitch | |
| We eat octopus too, and we love the catfish | |
| (Chorus 2X: Solomon Childs) | |
| The building of the most powerful dynasty | |
| We not just any stars, whether you be a murderer | |
| Or maybe the world just never heard of you | |
| Go 'head and play it out, this the role of ya lifetime | |
| (Interlude: Solomon Childs (Cappadonna)) | |
| Shoot 'em up shit, nigga, shoot 'em up shit, nigga | |
| (Yeah bitch), yeah all up in your voicebox nigga | |
| (Cappadonna) | |
| Yo, all ya'll bitch ass muthafuckas, ya'll ain't shit | |
| You actin' like you can't happen til I pop the clip | |
| Have your girl suckin' my dick, run in your crib and take chips | |
| You don't know me, I don't fuck around with ya'll, homie | |
| You can't hold me, fake ass niggaz owe me | |
| Big Don from the group home | |
| Sittin' on the front stoop smokin' a bone | |
| All ya'll hatin' ass niggaz, get one in your dome | |
| Or I'm up in the studio, playin' the phone | |
| I put hits on your fam, dog, now you alone | |
| So why you just not popular yet, I grab my tech | |
| And run around the blocks and demand respect | |
| It's the who? Nigga, Jay Bird, that's my word | |
| I leave your body in the dollar van, your brains on the curb | |
| Staten Island niggaz be the most superb | |
| Laid back in the joint, just be smokin' the herb | |
| (Chorus 2X) |
| zuo ci : Amorelli | |
| feat. Solomon Childs | |
| Intro: Cappadonna | |
| Homicide Hill, S. I., New York City | |
| Slow your roll, it' s my word | |
| Slap all ya niggaz, I hate ya' ll | |
| Aiyo, aiyo | |
| Cappadonna | |
| These streets got the best of me, my lifestyle' s corrupt | |
| It' s jakes lookin' for Don, and I don' t give a fuck | |
| Cuz my niggaz be on the block, ready to rock | |
| We got big bags of ready on us, one glock | |
| Feds makin' it hot, so I dipped off | |
| I smoke the ill idiot shit like Malakoff | |
| Me and my thug niggaz, too chipped off | |
| Staten Island be the land of the lost | |
| You can' t front, you can' t floss | |
| S. I. New York City, the burnt out apartments, the hallways that' s gritty | |
| It' s a pity we livin' this shit, cracks under my dick | |
| Feel my pain, if you know about this shit | |
| Dope in the toilet, money in the mattress | |
| We keep ratchets, and like niggaz up north, we fuck a fat bitch | |
| We eat octopus too, and we love the catfish | |
| Chorus 2X: Solomon Childs | |
| The building of the most powerful dynasty | |
| We not just any stars, whether you be a murderer | |
| Or maybe the world just never heard of you | |
| Go ' head and play it out, this the role of ya lifetime | |
| Interlude: Solomon Childs Cappadonna | |
| Shoot ' em up shit, nigga, shoot ' em up shit, nigga | |
| Yeah bitch, yeah all up in your voicebox nigga | |
| Cappadonna | |
| Yo, all ya' ll bitch ass muthafuckas, ya' ll ain' t shit | |
| You actin' like you can' t happen til I pop the clip | |
| Have your girl suckin' my dick, run in your crib and take chips | |
| You don' t know me, I don' t fuck around with ya' ll, homie | |
| You can' t hold me, fake ass niggaz owe me | |
| Big Don from the group home | |
| Sittin' on the front stoop smokin' a bone | |
| All ya' ll hatin' ass niggaz, get one in your dome | |
| Or I' m up in the studio, playin' the phone | |
| I put hits on your fam, dog, now you alone | |
| So why you just not popular yet, I grab my tech | |
| And run around the blocks and demand respect | |
| It' s the who? Nigga, Jay Bird, that' s my word | |
| I leave your body in the dollar van, your brains on the curb | |
| Staten Island niggaz be the most superb | |
| Laid back in the joint, just be smokin' the herb | |
| Chorus 2X |
| zuò cí : Amorelli | |
| feat. Solomon Childs | |
| Intro: Cappadonna | |
| Homicide Hill, S. I., New York City | |
| Slow your roll, it' s my word | |
| Slap all ya niggaz, I hate ya' ll | |
| Aiyo, aiyo | |
| Cappadonna | |
| These streets got the best of me, my lifestyle' s corrupt | |
| It' s jakes lookin' for Don, and I don' t give a fuck | |
| Cuz my niggaz be on the block, ready to rock | |
| We got big bags of ready on us, one glock | |
| Feds makin' it hot, so I dipped off | |
| I smoke the ill idiot shit like Malakoff | |
| Me and my thug niggaz, too chipped off | |
| Staten Island be the land of the lost | |
| You can' t front, you can' t floss | |
| S. I. New York City, the burnt out apartments, the hallways that' s gritty | |
| It' s a pity we livin' this shit, cracks under my dick | |
| Feel my pain, if you know about this shit | |
| Dope in the toilet, money in the mattress | |
| We keep ratchets, and like niggaz up north, we fuck a fat bitch | |
| We eat octopus too, and we love the catfish | |
| Chorus 2X: Solomon Childs | |
| The building of the most powerful dynasty | |
| We not just any stars, whether you be a murderer | |
| Or maybe the world just never heard of you | |
| Go ' head and play it out, this the role of ya lifetime | |
| Interlude: Solomon Childs Cappadonna | |
| Shoot ' em up shit, nigga, shoot ' em up shit, nigga | |
| Yeah bitch, yeah all up in your voicebox nigga | |
| Cappadonna | |
| Yo, all ya' ll bitch ass muthafuckas, ya' ll ain' t shit | |
| You actin' like you can' t happen til I pop the clip | |
| Have your girl suckin' my dick, run in your crib and take chips | |
| You don' t know me, I don' t fuck around with ya' ll, homie | |
| You can' t hold me, fake ass niggaz owe me | |
| Big Don from the group home | |
| Sittin' on the front stoop smokin' a bone | |
| All ya' ll hatin' ass niggaz, get one in your dome | |
| Or I' m up in the studio, playin' the phone | |
| I put hits on your fam, dog, now you alone | |
| So why you just not popular yet, I grab my tech | |
| And run around the blocks and demand respect | |
| It' s the who? Nigga, Jay Bird, that' s my word | |
| I leave your body in the dollar van, your brains on the curb | |
| Staten Island niggaz be the most superb | |
| Laid back in the joint, just be smokin' the herb | |
| Chorus 2X |
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