Victory 2004 Lyrics

Victory 2004 lyrics

(Feat. Notorious B.I.G., 50 Cent, Busta Rhymes, Lloyd Banks)

Yo the sun
don't shine forever but as long as its here we minus well shine
togeher
Better now than never business before pleasure
P-Diddy and the
Fam, who you know do it better?
Yeah right, no matter what, we air
tight
So when you hear somethin, make sure you hear it right
Don't make a
ass outta yourself, by assumin
Our music keeps you movin, what are you
provin?
You know that I'm two levels above you baby
Hug me baby, I'ma
make you love me baby
It's ten years and we still runnin this
motherfucker

[P. Diddy]
Yeah!

[B.I.G.]
One

[P.
Diddy]
As we procede to give you what you
need!

[B.I.G.]
One...Two!

[P. Diddy]
It's all fucked up
now!

[50 Cent]
Yo!

[P. Diddy]
What the fuck yaw gonna do
now?

[50 Cent]
Yo, we can't stay alive forever
So if shit hit the
fan then we might as well die together
I'm high as ever, more holes and more
cheddar
G-Unit move around wit them pounds and berreta's
Yea faggot, if I
want it I'm gon' have it
Regardless if it's handed to me or I gotta grab
it
Don't make a ass outta yaself tryin to stop me
I'm cocky, raps rocky,
nigga you sloppy
You know that I'm, 8 levels above you nigga
I'll club
you nigga, I never heard of you nigga, ugly nigga
I'm the wrong one to
provoke
You rattin on niggas is only gon' leave you smoke
So the only
thing left now is tools for these cowrads
I got no friends, fuck most of
these cowards
They pop shit 'till we start approaching these
cowards
While we lay around dollars, they lay around
flowers

[B.I.G.]
In The Commision, you ask for permission to hit
em
He don't like me, him and wild wifey was wit em
You heard of us, the
murderers, most shady
Been on the low lately, the feds hate me
The son of
*Satan*, they say my killin's too blatant
You hesitatin, I'm in your mama
crib waitin
Duct tapin, your fam destiny
Lays in my hands, gat lays in my
waist
Francis, M to the iz-H phenominal
Gun rest under your vest by the
abdominal
Rhyme a few bars so I can buy a few cars
And I kick a few flows
so I can pimp a few hoes
Excellence is my presence, never tense
Never
hesitant, leave a nigga bent real quick
Real sick, brawl nights, I perform
like Mike
Anyone -- Tyson, Jordan, Jackson
Action, pack guns,
ridiculous
And I'm, quick to bust, if my ends you touch
Kids or girl you
touch, in this world I clutch
Two auto-matoes, used to call me fatso
Now
you call me Castro, my rap flows
Militant, y'all faggots ain't killin
shit
Ooops Cristal keep spillin shit, you overdid it homes
You in the
danger zone, you shouldn't be alone
Hold hands and say it like me
The
most shady, Frankie baby, fantastic
Graphic, tryin to make dough, like
Jurassic
Park did quick to spark kids who start shit
See me, only
me
The Underboss of this holocaust
Truly yours, Frank
White

[Chorus: Busta Rhymes]

We got the real live shit from front
to back
To my people in the world, where the hell you at?
Where my
soldiers is at? [2X]
Where my real live my soldiers?
Where my soldiers is
at?

[P. Diddy]
Come on it stay dark for long
They say its darkest
before the dawn
Cars before the storm
I'm happy makes a bethus now
preaching the song
I can see B.I. rocking the Sean John yeah right
This
is for life afters like B.I. Frank White
Yo Bad Boy for life
No matter
what the public say we gon prove
There aint another rapper who could feel ya
shoes
Cuz Biggie Smalls is the illest
Realest my stones and killas got
homes and villas
Overseas and what was me
Who found out other MCs been
tryin to find ya route
This illman MC used to be on other shit
Took home
"Life after Death" and then studied it
Listened to the double disk
Now
they all spit
Frank tell how we did!

[B.I.G.]
We got the shit, Mac
tight, brass knuckles and flashlights
The heaers in the two-seaters, with two
midas
Senoritas, kiss rings when you meet us
P-Diddy run the city, show no
pity
I'm the witty one, Frank's the crook from the Brook'
Matty broke the
neck of your coke connect
No respect squeeze off til all y'all
diminish
Shootouts for twenty minutes, until we finish
Venice took the
loot, escaped, in the Coupe
Break bread, with the kiss, Peniro, sheek
loops
Black Rob joined the mob, it ain't no replacin him
Niggaz step up,
we just macin them
Placin them in funerals, criminals turned aroused
The
Brick City, nobody come off like P-Diddy
Business rise, I play men
Hide
money on the Island Cayman, y'all just betray men
You screamin, I position,
competition
Nother day in the life of the Comission

[Lloyd
Banks]
I got a intergangstress who argue and steams wit reefer
And who
flip when I call a bitch like she Queen Latifah
Not all the vehicle's is
long enough to stash the streetsweeper
This shit can get uglier than the
Master P sneaker
We slidin through the ruckus, wit prada on the
chuckus
Soon as spring break ho's home from college wanna fuck us
I ain't
here to drop knowledge on you suckas
I'll sick rottweiler's on you fuckas,
cops followin to cuff us
Top dollars to discuss this, whole lotta
zeros
When it comes to paper I blow a soul outta aero
I'ma break before I
lay floor berry
Besides, every rapper ain't a star, nigga plad ain't
burberry
You can't tame Lloyd, smokin by the big screen
You changin the
channel looks like I'm playin the game boy
I know to watch botherin ya
vision
You reach and I'll put a dot on ya head like its part of yo
religion
Why party wit a pigeon?
I'm blowin a 10 cuz Bush handin flyers
for a party in a prison
I'm in the gucci vest wit the green and red
straps
I'm the last rapper to scare niggas since Craig Mack
Now every
morning's a fast start
And there aint problem gettin dressed cuz my closet
got more aisles than pathmark
Run, move startin a wave
And leave wit 12
shells in ya mouth like a carton of eggs
I'm the young pimp pardon my
age
I don't got long hair but if I did she be puttin my braids
Niggas
find what club they at
Take 'em wit us, and run a train on 'em like a subway
mac
Get advances from grey Acura
See these record labels got most artists
gettin fucked like the gay rappa'
I go the college on the tour
I'm goin
down in history nigga, next to Wallace and Shakur
I keep ya ammo clean, text
polished in the drawer
Camera's by the hamper that mine into the floor
By
now, you probably heard of me
Fresh outta surgery, flashy as a fuck, you
gon' have to murder me
Burglary, I'm leavin wit cha nike's bergendy, White
T, bergendy
You match now, back down
Niggas love to hate you, but love
you when you disappear
Catch me on the boat wit weed smoke and official
gear
Heavy when I toke, C notes from different years
Besly in the robe,
re-motes for liftin chairs
You ain't rich, but we glad to snatch ya
I
send cars to crib like I'm a cab dispatcha
You better off wit ya stupid
guys, lookin for a coupe to drive
You ain't gettin nuttin but ya french
fries supersized
It's a damn shame y'all still local
I'm in a million
dollar studio layin my vocals
Nigga

[Chorus (x3): Busta
Rhymes]

We got the real live shit from front to back
To my people in
the world, where the hell you at?
Where my soldiers is at? [2X]
Where my
real live my soldiers?
Where my soldiers is at?

[Busta Rhymes]
Whe
got the real live shit!

What yaw niggas wanna do?