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| NAS | Lifes A Bitch |
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Aiyyo, wassup wassup lets keep it real son
Count this money, yaknowhatImsayin?
Yea yea
Aiyyo, put the Grants over there in the safe yaknowhatImsayin?
Yea yea
Cause we spendin these Jacksons
The Washingtons go to wifey, you know how that go
Im sayin, thats what this is all about right?
Clothes, bankrolls, and hoes yaknowhatImsayin?
Yo then what man, what??
Visualizin the realism of life and actuality
Fuck whos the baddest a persons status depends on salary
And my mentality is, money orientated
Im destined to live the dream for all my peeps who never made it
cause yeah, we were beginners in the hood as five percenters
But somethin must of got in us cause all of us turned to sinners
Now some, restin in peace and some are sittin in San Quentin
Others such as myself are tryin to carry on tradition
Keepin the schwepervesence street ghetto essence inside us
Cause it provides us with the proper insight to guide us
Even though, we know somehow we all gotta go
but as long as we leavin thievin well be leavin with some kind of dough
so, and to that day we expire and turn to vapors
me and my capers-ll be somewhere stackin plenty papers
Keepin it real, packin steel, gettin high
Cause lifes a bitch and then you die
Lifes a bitch and then you die; thats why we get high
Cause you never know when youre gonna go
Lifes a bitch and then you die; thats why we puff lye
Cause you never know when youre gonna go
Lifes a bitch and then you die; thats why we get high
Cause you never know when youre gonna go
Lifes a bitch and then you die; thats why we puff lye
Cause you never know when youre gonna go
Lifes a bitch and then you die
I woke up early on my born day, Im twenty years of blessing
The essence of adolescent leaves my body now Im fresh in
My physical frame is celebrated cause I made it
One quarter through life some God-ly like thing created
Got rhymes 365 days annual plus some
Load up the mic and bust one, cuss while I puffs from
my skull cause its pain in my brain vein money maintain
Dont go against the grain simple and plain
When I was young at this I used to do my thing hard
Robbin foreigners take they wallets they jewels and rip they green cards
Dipped to the projects flashin my quick cash
and got my first piece of ass smokin blunts with hash
Now its all about cash in abundance, niggaz I used to run with
is rich or doin years in the hundreds
I switched my motto -- instead of sayin fuck tomorrow
That buck that bought a bottle couldve struck the lotto
Once I stood on the block, loose cracks produce stacks
I cooked up and cut small pieces to get my loot back
Time is Illmatic keep static like wool fabric
Pack a four-matic that crack your whole cabbage
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