Die Too Soon

Lyrics

[Intro: DJ Quik] Compton's in the motherfuckin' house Look [Verse 1: DJ Quik & Busta Rhymes] Now Busta-Bust he like the David Blane of hip-hop (Come here just watch) And X to the Z, a backpacker, y'all niggas stop (Yo, yo) We asphalt, not clay, not dust (Yo) I put my money where my mouth is, y'all just trust (Ooh) This a real game, motherfuckers, and I'm playing this well (Yeah) I'm an analog, you a hologram, you ain't that real (Yo, yo) You ain't the truth, you ain't even know how to begin The real fly game swatter, you can't win I've been PI since I was knee-high (Yup) Spending money since 4 years old Let the truth be told (Yo, yo) Y'all proof, pull the sunroof When I bubble, it's an overflow Left and right wrist like overload Now I'm 5'4" nigga (Vroom), double R right I'm rough on the boulevard (Yeah), I do it hard (Yo, yo) even with a hit on my head I still shine, spit on the red I'm fly, nigga, 'til I'm bred and I'm dead, yeah [Chorus: Busta Rhymes] So tell 'em welcome back to one of these Niggas know that they fucking around with real Gs Who you think you are? Bass heavy all in my truck That be the gangster shit, I stay banging up in my car Shot the front nigga, you fuck around and just make a nigga cock up and I clap up the broom Act dumb and you can be one of the young niggas that your peeps be saying "Die too soon" Ayo (Flipmode nigga) [Verse 2: Busta Rhymes] When I step up in the club bitches trying to hug me So sick baby mothers still trying to fuck me See, we move past diesel like we stocking the [?] I'm the nicest in this bitch, swamp cocky as fuck Fuck rap, a lot of drug money stacking insane Compton got a couple bricks from quick and gain Thought a stomp and couple clicks to you niggas is lame Like you could fuck with Aftermath, bitch I'll weaken your frame Then I pumped y'all niggas bladder 'til we watching your piece build Blood mixture killing niggas at free will I say thou shit too immoral my brother Throwing a bachelor party for my homie fucking your mother So married to the game, bitch, whenever we build My nigga Game, he like to spaz, I try to tell him to chill Fuck you, see my goons will rush your resident fast No matter how much dough you got, we whip the president ass Break a bottle, cut your jugular, you niggas is dead [Chorus: Busta Rhymes] So tell 'em welcome back to one of these Niggas know that they fucking around with real Gs Who you think you are? Bass heavy all in my truck That be the gangster shit, I stay banging up in my car Shot the front nigga, you fuck around and just make a nigga cock up and I clap up the broom Act dumb and you can be one of the young niggas that your peeps be saying "Die too soon" Flipmode [Verse 3: The Game] I don't do much, sit on the block in that Lavender Range Waitin' for fiends, pass 'em the Caine Y'all niggas is lame Y'all don't really want beef with The Game, give 'em 100 thou, ease his pain You don't ride through the hood Motherfucker, that ain't your Navy 6 All you do is drive Jay-Z shit Nigga you ain't hardcore Nigga you ain't never won no award, only stood behind Dame when he was thanking the lord, you a fag Nigga you know your rhymes ain't ill and State Property the closest you ever been to a mill, you ain't hot With that wack ass album you drop The whole Roc know Beans came and take your spot, you a joke Tax write off for Russell and Hov, why you think they keep you around when you only went gold Whoo Kid, let 'em know who put the B-I in bitch faggot couldn't sell a record with T.I. and Trick Daddy Nigga talkin' that shit, I crush him and this ain't got nuttin' to do with Quik and Busta