Life Liquid Lyrics

Life Liquid lyrics

(Blood spillin in the streets!)  The what?

 (Blood spillin in the streets!)

 (Blood spillin in the streets!)  The what?

 (Blood spillin in the streets!)

 

 [Journalist]

 Uhh, yo, yo, aiyyo

 Aiyyo wit two precise niggaz, holdin the right biscuits

 There'll be a lot of cats leakin out they life liquid

 Niggaz who actin hard this ain't Columbia Pictures

 when we throw two in yo' ass while you huggin on your mistress

 From Philly, where cats quick to mute you at

 Cuckoo cats, twist back your FUBU cap

 Crucial black - two chicks to screw you at

 Then they shove a poolstick where you doodoo at

 While you checkin on your pagers, weapons in your faces

 Shot blazin, cops section off the pavement

 Hoppin out with gauges, prepare for the occasion

 We throw about eight in, the house that you was raised in

 Mouthin off fakin'll make you a loud patient

 Achin, with your arms in a alcohol basin

 And while your brain's achin I'ma have your dame slavin

 Cocaine and apron, over a flame bakin

 

 Chorus: Journalist + Canibus

 

 [J]	Niggaz take it for granted - 

 	until they layin dead on the granite

 [C]	Innocent bystanders get shot by standin

 [J]	Y'all better duck when you hear the cannon

 [Both]	or y'all be checkin for leaks - 

 	Niggas'll leave your blood spillin in the streets

 [J]	Niggaz take it for granted - 

 	until they layin dead on the granite

 [C]	Innocent bystanders get shot by standin

 [J]	Y'all shoulda ducked when y'all heard the cannon

 	now you layin deceased

 [Both]	Niggas'll leave your blood spillin in the streets

 

 [Canibus]

 Can you feel it?  Nothin can save ya

 Cause this is the season of the infrared laser

 And since I got time, what I'm gonna do

 is show you how you can get spotted by one too

 Cause I don't give a fuck, I just cock back and bust

 With more arms than an octopus, as if one gun wasn't enough

 I fuck around and pull eight out

 Blast your face off or blow your brains out

 Nigga, I'll leave you laid out

 Then I pull the gat in my waist out

 Put it in your mouth

 and keep squeezin til the whole clip is sprayed out

 Take the gun in my ankle brace out; shoot you in the stomach 

 till I see the last meal you ate drain out

 Your face look spaced out, I gut you like a trout

 Scream my name out while I'm scrapin your rib cage out

 Squeeze with the index, spray like a bottle of Windex

 Bullets buzzin by your head like insects

 From your head to your mid-sec'

 And I ain't even shoot you in the legs or your limbs or your dick yet

 Your masculinity is questionable, you probably a homosexual

 Just the thought of havin a woman lay next to you 

 probably threatens you

 You probably look at grapes and see testicles

 You probably fantasize about vegetables 

 like cucumbers and bananas havin sex with you

 And you probably let gerbels crawl up your rectum too

 Shame on you; I (*defecate*) on you 

 and simultaneously (*urinate*) on you

 and pour some acid rain on you

 I stop your heartbeat with heat 

 You weak nigga, I'll leave your blood spillin in the street

 

 Chorus

 

 [C]	Ayyo Journalist what you workin with?

 [J]	Old school burners with 

 	barrels big enough for you head to fit in the circle shit

 	What you holdin Canibus?

 

 [Canibus]

 30 bulllet banana clips

 Just to handle the kick I gotta glue it to my hands and shit

 We got permits to murder shit

 We critically injure niggaz who deserve the shit

 Put em in a tournaquet

 

 [Journalist]

 Bomb proof Suburbans with tractor-tread tires

 so we can ride through the dirt with it (drive over curbs with it)

 Merc in it, even over slippery surfaces we can swerve in it

 (And crash into niggaz who don't deserve they shit)

 Try stoppin the dudes, you gotta be bruised

 Cockin the tools that knock you out your socks and your shoes

 

 [Canibus]

 We'll leave you shoeless and keep shootin

 Look how much life liquid you losin

 You need a blood transfusion

 

 [Journalist]

 In the back of a medic truck, shots in your neck and gut

 while we holdin our weapons up, I'm still reppin' Philly - what?

 

 (Blood spillin in the streets!)  The what?

 (Blood spillin in the streets!)

 (Blood spillin in the streets!)  The what?

 (Blood spillin in the streets!)

 

 Chorus

 

 .. The what? .. The what? ..