Текст песни: Money, Houses And Cars + перевод

This life of ours

The same thing that got a nigga here get me there

(Everything you see, ain’t always what it seems to be)

Yeah yeah, the same thing that got a nigga here get me there

Come on, Bad Azz, Kurupt, The Gang

I’m just trying ta make a dollar out of nothing

Turn zero into somethin'

And it’s, one life we live, with this, one shot to give

You got chances, we use none risking your life

You know we got guns, why you come and get us with knives

It’s a cold thang, the game, just take folks under

It feels better if you say that god just called his number

When you do we kept a self situations like that

In situations where it’s likely somebody might gat

No bad intentions, we all like to jump in the car

No destination but we all thinkin hard to get far

Money, houses, and cars, this life of ours, goin where

We came a long way, but still we got so far to go to get there

(The same thing that got a nigga here get me there, and if it don’t,

it wasn’t sposed to)

Money, houses, and cars, this life of ours, goin where

We came a long way, but still we got so far to go to get there

(The same thing that got a nigga here get me there, and if it don’t,

it wasn’t sposed to)

I got gangsta ass niggas with so much heat

G’d up rides with so much beat

G’d up apparal, dope by the barrels, gangsta ass goodfella nigga

Kurupt and Nell

I once had a bitch that ate so much dick

That she couldn’t do nuthin for me, but blow one of the homies

As I ease my way right up the streets

Me, D-A-Z, Bad Azz, and Priest

We gotta hit the spot where the homies meet

Where all the OG’s round up the fleet

Cuz the homies is crazy shit

And we all about stackin' up a grip

No funny ass niggas, no scandalous ass ho’s

And we don’t give a fuck about a bitch

I can’t worry bout a bitch

I’m tryin ta get rich by next week

And I can get me some pussy when it ain’t nuttin to eat

My life, this life of ours buyin nuttin, houses and cars

Ghetto stars, doin our thing

Like bust a bitch, bust a bitch, and get rich with my gang

We brang, to the table, what you ain’t able

A few pies to cut, cuz we ride for bucks in the worst way

Today Tuesday, I got a date on Thursday, and fuck what you say

You say dirt about us when we ain’t there

When we come around, you fuckin clown, you act scared

2Pac is dead, stop questioning life

You had to talk to the feds, that’s the test in the life

Goin where, a long way from here to get there

You gotta mash to maintain

Blast thats the gang thang

(the same thing that got a nigga here get me there)

Money, houses, and cars, this life of ours, goin where

We came a long way, but still we got so far to go to get there

(the same thing that got a nigga here get me there, and if it don’t,

it wasn’t sposed to)

Money, houses, and cars, this life of ours, goin where

We came a long way, but still we got so far to go to get there

(the same thing that got a nigga here get me there, and if it don’t,

it wasn’t sposed to)

(I, I, I, I)

I heard gangstas don’t ride with disguises

But I’m quick to throw the mask on to get my blast on

So call it what you want, yeah yeah, that’s all cool

But me and the homies bout to act the fuckin fool

Dump if you dump

Nigga pull the pump

Lay a nigga (lay a nigga), for the homies spray a nigga

This ain’t the Sony, so you can’t play a nigga

The homies quick to cock, A-K a nigga

With no hesitation

Penaltants populate the population

A nickel plated penitration

Khakis, t-shirts and stars

Homies, busta’s, riders and mark’s

All y’all niggas here wanna be hard

But no nigga with heart when the heater spark

Just ask the homie Bad Azz

He’ll put you d on how it’s sposed to be in the whole family

As I ease my way right up the streets

Me, D-A-Z, Bad Azz and Priest

We gotta hit the spot where the homies meet

Where all the OG’s round up the fleet

Cuz the homies is crazy as shit

And we all about stackin' up a grip

No funny ass niggas, no scandliss ass ho’s

And we don’t give a fuck about a bitch, (bitch, bitch, bitch)

Yeah, 1−9-9−9, the Gang, all in your face at close range

Mr. Bad Azz, yeah yeah yeah yeah, it don’t quit, we keep it crackin like this

Ugh, aww yeah yeah yeah, it don’t quit

It ain’t over till I’m done

Ain’t nowhere to hide, so why run

I don’t battle with rappers, either bomb or draw guns

You can hate me, cuz I got skills and live real

And my life is well woven in these stack of dollar bills

I should kill, I would come and kill your ass

But your only mission is destruction, why get in your path

I’ll let you kill yourself, while I chill with wealth

And let the story be the word on the streets, a few weeks

I gotta eat, fuck fuckin with you and being broke on the streets

Duck duckin with you and gettin' smoked, that’s a no-no

What you think it’s fifty five or 4−4

Money, houses, and cars, nigga I gotta go

Yeah yeah yeah yeah

It don’t quit we keep it wreckin like this, ha ha ha ha

Yeah yeah yeah yeah it don’t quit

Nigga you can suck a fat dick

Yeah, yeah yeah yeah yeah

We keep it crackin, keep it crackin like this (this, this, this, this)