just realize Taste the spice of life and you'll feel fine, together we can climb But it's alright, there's nothing there, did you realize Chorus 1: Yeah
Verse 1] For all your life you run around Just try to catch the golden crown The glittering and all the shimmering Conquered your head, it's all or nothing
and we sick [Spice 1] Niggas playa hate ya but I'm Naughty by Nature Eiht ya got these niggas on the run, so let's go get the guns Takin they shit,
and start this despiration I'm facin' more time then I really got to give Damn I wanna live in 2-1-3 5-1-0 And 2-1-3 is you a baller or a G? It's the Dub S
my shoes Got me caught up in this drama, yeah! (spice 1) We built up out the scene with out a clue People call the police but that's all they can do
laugh at you) Enter the mind of a sick nigga. With bloody uzi clips, Decapitated heads in baskets, Closed caskets. murda on wax. Nigga, thats what it's
(s-p-i-c-e) word-a We say the 187, the 187 (jealousy got me strapped) callin the murder The 187, the 187 is in the fire (nigga) (spice 1) (east bay
to the bone But now I'm killin' niggas on the microphone Sp-spice 1 kickin' shit to mass A Hennessy lemon squeeze and bubble bath You see that's the
of the niggas who got crept on (fuck is wrong with you? ) (spice 1) We chopped it up, my partner had some love 50 g's to creep on the niggas that tried
, she Must want a thug ass nigga for sure Cause it's the young playa spiz-ice and I be stacking my paper 24 motherfuckin 7, a nigga havin it major Now
here I wanna kill Wanna kill me too that's real Punk ass niggas they know who they is runnin' 'round talkin' shit Oh, fuck that punk ass nigga Spice 1, he ain't nothin
it?s time to go Fool or I'll be late for the murda show nigga A to the motherfuckin' K 187 proof ass nigga from the bay (Murda show) Yeah, and it's
on the flo' for yo' ass This's for my nigga roger, the godfather of futuristic funk Here's the ganja, get it crunk Twist the skunk, hit it once And keep
swing it, shake it, move it, make it, who do you think you are? Trust it, use it, prove it, groove it, show me how good you are, Swing it, shake it,
nothing for me baby Now we got the flavour the bad behaviour the rhythm the melody the juice for you to savour rockin' and vibing but somebody's jivin' You need to take a tip, sort it
the money filter Keep it on the down low You never tell about your scrilla On the reala I breaks it down in all directions It's the Fillmoe players with
talk it, be about it You talk it, but we about it We do it, you read about it Leave 'em don't speak about it We live it, you dream about it How could
(feat. Spice 1) [Spice 1:] We don't fuck around, we hit a nigga up with them desert eagles 187 hero Z-Ro, and Fetty Chico Blooow, I'm a jedi in these