Letras de Musicas

[Yeah hehehahaha, we goin platinum nigga! Plaahahatinum.]



Yeah, you got the Live Squad in this motherfucker

We got my nigga Treach from Naughty by Nature in this motherfucker

My nigga Apache up in this motherfucker



Verse One: Tupac



My Mossberg goes boom, gimme room, can I catch it

Talkin quick and then I vic just tryin to keep from gettin blasted

I had enough I put a hit upon them bastards

Boo-yaa! Turned a snitch into a casket

Now they after me, prowling for a niggaz bucks

Time to see, who’s the G, with the bigger nuts

Buck buck, big up and livin reckless

Niggaz with a death wish step in with a Tec and I’ll wet this

Yeah this shit is hyper

Two to one I’m writing representing and I’m striking like a viper

Huh, I got my mind made up, I got my nine

Ring the alarm, and strong arm must run

Some niggaz need to feel me with a passion

I’m old fashioned, run up on me nigga and get blasted

With five deadly venomz



(Yeah ’Pac, fuck that, still hittin em up with

that old deadly shit. Aiyyo Treach where you at?

Step up and hit they ass up with the wickedness.)



Verse Two: Treach



We come to hit you with a sock full of Brooklyn

to the Onyx of your nose, punk is funky like skunk blunts

Stunk like funk cunt

I come to take you on a war rough and rugged route

And if another doubts I blow your fuckin mother out

And that’s the street scarred style

I shout I’m-de-MC-wit-de-nasty-mouf, and kick the bitch out

Sue me? I pay the lawyer for ya oh boy yeah

Plus my style’s ten to twenty fuckin pounds more

I take you quicker than a picture of a punk ya pickin shit

pickin pockets with a razor stoppin Russian rockets

Not shoplift, I’m liftin shop

Once you sound hot, cause if you ain’t a perfect ten

my sign is stop!

It’s twenty mother-crooked-fuckin styles in em

Like women I did em I’m in for deadly ready venom



Verse Three: Live Squad



Yeah, as I take a puff I get rough, Big Mad

To put it on, can’t none come tougher see

I’m down with the sound of the Squad hard, boom!

Breakin em down, I make em see their doom

Coming straight from the dome where I roam it’s a job to

rob and steal and runnin from the coppers

Who hold a, boulder, turn the gun controller

Started from a punk now to be a high roller

Youngest, reckless, crazy, disaster

Mac-11 blaster, and I run faster

Than a lot of cops I can’t be stopped till my head gets popped

A lot of fuckin bodies will drop

It’s a disaster, I’m coming for the blood splatter

I make you scatter, leavin trails of brains and bladders

Blowin em out the frame with no shame

Game tight, drop a body then get out of sight

Count my loot after I shoot, leave my kicks up and it’s

something I don’t wanna do, somethin that I never did

I try to get him, I think I hit em, I lit him

He’s out! A poison, a deadly venom



(Yeah Mad, fuck that! You know how we do.

KnowhatI’msayin? Squad in effect, YG’z in effect.

Now you know a nigga like me gotta represent)



Verse Four: Live Squad



Once again, back to rip shit, quick on the flip tip

The psycho, represent the real to take the mic flow

Deadly, rock a head G, check the melody

Niggaz can’t touch me when I wreckin G you better flee

Cause I’m gifted with a jab and a forty-four Mag

So nigga flip or take a trip in a body bag

Uhh, boom you slipped up, now you’re zipped up

Yeah one more statistic, fronted and got ripped up

No joke, you be yolk, no matter how it sound

We’re taking over eight niggaz back to the stomping grounds

Line em up single file, dome runnin in em

A nigga hit em with the venom, the fourth deadly venom



(Nigga, yaknowhatI’msayin? Fuck that!

I told you, we takin over, yo ’Pac.)



Verse Five: 2Pac



Five deadly venomz verse five be the livest

Strugglin and strive, keep a nine in my waistline

Take mine, you better bury me, G

Punk ass niggaz don’t even worry me, see

I got a glock that say ’Pac run the block

Fuck the cops cause my gauge gets me… PAID

As I sit and reminesce about the old days

Hugging on my AK, fuck getting played, hey

I say niggaz need to get they mind right

Until they do I pop a clip and grip my nine tight

Now it’s on everday could be my last day

That’s why I blast on they ass as I past let the glass spray

First you had a mouth full of fronts

Now you’re mouth’s full of chunks, Pac’s out puffin blunts

Deadly venomz



(Hahaha, yeah pass that shit over here.

Apache bout to clean shit up.)



Verse Six: Apache



Throw up your middle finger! Start the track for the maniac

Only thing I’m givin out is black donuts and dirty backs

Let me tell how you rough I get

I pop shit behind your back get in your face and pop the same shit

You can’t get in because my gate’s bigger I’ma snake nigga

My act guards me so hard I pull the fuckin trigger

I’m a section to clinch your porch is like a pinch

Test a rhyme I’ll knock your hairline back an inch

Fuckin up pooh-butts, cut em like cold cuts

Choke em with my boot lace, then leave em hangin like old nuts

Clip up and move out, time to get em

That’s the results of fuckin with the fifth venom in denim



(Yeah, yaknowhatI’msayin?

Five motherfuckin deadly venomz, in effect for ninety-three

ninety-four ninety-five all that other shit.

We takin this motherfucker over this larger hit.

YaknowhatI’msayin? Follow us, come along. YaknowhatI’msayin?

We takin this motherfucker over. TRUST. We out.