Lirik Lagu Victory 2004 - P Diddy Ft. 50 Cent, Lloyd Banks, Busta Rhymes & Biggie Gun
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(P Diddy):10 yearsYo the sun don't shine foreverBut as long as it's here then we might as well shine togetherBetter now than never business before pleasureP-Diddy and the Fam, who you know do it better?Yeah right, no matter what, we air tightAnd when you hear somethin, make sure you hear it rightDon't make a ass outta yourself, by assumin, My 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 10 years and we still runnin this mother fucker...Background: As we proceed, to give you what you need, it's all fucked up now, what the fuck y'all gonna do now?(50 Cent:Yo, yo we can't stay alive foreverSo if shit hit the fan then we might as well die togetherI'm high as ever, more holes and more cheddarG-Unit move around wit them pounds and berreta'sYea faggot, if I want it I'm gon' have itRegardless if it's handed to me or I gotta grab itDon't make a ass outta yaself tryin to stop meI'm cocky, raps rocky, nigga you sloppyYou know that I'm, 8 levels above you niggaI'll club you nigga, I never heard of you nigga, ugly niggaI'm the wrong one to provokeYou rattin on niggas is only gon' leave you smokeSo the only thing left now is tools for these cowardsI got no friends, fuck most of these cowardsThey pop shit 'till we start approaching these cowardsWhile we lay around dollars, they lay around flowers.(Busta Rhymes): In a Commision, you ask for permission to hit emHe don't like me, him and wild wifey was wit emYou heard of us, the murderous, most shadyBeen on the low lately, the feds hate meThe son of satanThey say my killin's too blatantYou hesitatin, I'm in your mama crib waitinDuct tapin, your fam destinylays in my hands, gat lays in my waistFrancis, M to the iz-H phenominalGun rest under your vest by the abdominalRob a few bars so I can buy a few carsAnd I kick a few flows so I can pimp a few hoesExcellence is my presence, never tenseNever hesitant, leave a nigga bent real quickReal sick, brawl nights, I perform like MikeAnyone -- Tyson, Jordan, Jacksonaction, pack guns, ridiculousAnd I'm, quick to bust, if my ends you touchKids or girl you touch, in this world I clutchTwo auto-matoes, used to call me fatsoNow you call me Castro, my rap flowsmilitant, y'all faggots ain't killin shitOoops Cristal keep spillin shit, you overdid it homesYou in the danger zone, you shouldn't be aloneHold hands and say it like meThe most shady, Frankie baby, fantasticGraphic, tryin to make dough, like JurassicParked in quick to spark kids who start shitSee me, only meThe Underboss of this holocaustTruly yours, Frank White(Chorus(Busta Rhymes)): We got the real live shit from front to backTo my people in the world, where the hell you at?Where my soldiers is at? (x2)Where my real live soldiers, where my soldiers is at?(P Diddy): yo we cant stay down for long,they say its darkest before the dawn,cause before the storm, I'm happy mixing bethas now I'm preachin the songs, and I can see B-I rockin the shaun-john,yea right this is what life afters like,B-I frank white your bad boy for life,no matter what the public say we gon' prove, there aint another MC that can fill your shoes cos'Biggie Smalls is the illest, realest, my stones the chillest, got homes in villas,overseas and what was me I found out, other MC's been tryin to find your rout. It's ill when MC's used to be on other shit,to call em life after death and they studied it,listen to the double diss, now they all spit, like they all legit,Frank tell em how we did it(Biggie Gun):We got the shit, Mac tight, brass knuckles and flashlightsThe heaers in the two-seaters, with two midasSenoritas, kiss rings when you meet usP-Diddy run the city, show no pityI'm the witty one, Frank's the crook from the Brook'Matty broke the neck of your coke connectNo respect squeeze off til all y'all diminishShootouts for twenty minutes, until we finishVenice took the loot, escaped, in the CoupeBreak bread, with the kiss, Peniro, sheek loopsBlack Rob joined the mob, it ain't no replacin himNiggaz step up, we just macin themplacin them in funerals, criminals turned arousedThe Brick City, nobody come off like P-DiddyBusiness rise, I play menHide money on the Island Cayman, y'all just betray menYou screamin, I position, competitionNother day in the life of the Comission(Lloyd Banks):I got a intergangstress who argue and steams wit reeferAnd who flip when I call a bitch like she Queen LatifahNot all the vehicle's is long enough to stash the streetsweeperThis shit can get uglier than the Master P sneakerWe slidin through the ruckus, wit prada on the chuckusSoon as spring break ho's home from college wanna fuck usI ain't here to drop knowledge on you suckasI'll sick rottweiler's on you fuckas, cops followin to cuff usTop dollars to discuss this, whole lotta zerosWhen it comes to paper I blow a soul outta aeroI'ma break before I lay floor berryBesides, every rapper ain't a star, nigga plad ain't bulbaryYou can't tame Lloyd, smokin by the big screenYou changin the channel looks like I'm playin the game boyI know to watch botherin ya visionYou reach and I'll put a dot on ya head like its part of yo religionWhy party wit a pigeon?I'm blowin a 10 cuz Bush handin flyers for a party in a prisonI'm in the gucci vest wit the green and red strapsI'm the last rapper to scare niggas since Craig MackNow every morning's a fast startAnd there aint problem gettin dressed cuz my closet got more aisles than pathmarkRun, move startin a waveand leave wit 12 shells in ya mouth like a carton of eggsI'm the young pimp pardon my ageI don't got long hair but if I did she be puttin my braidsNiggas find what club they attake 'em wit us, and run a train on 'em like a subway macget advances from grey agrasee these record labels got most artists gettin fucked like the gay rappa'i go the college on the tourI'm goin down in history nigga, next to Wallace and ShakurI keep ya ammo clean, text polished in the drawerCamera's by the hamper that mine into the floorby now, you probably heard of mefresh outta surgery, flashy as a fuck, you gon' have to murder meBurglary, I'm leavin wit cha nike's bergendy, White T, bergendyyou match now, back downniggas love to hate you, but love you when you disappearcatch me on the boat wit weed smoke and official gearheavy when I toke, C notes from different yearsBesly in the robe, re-motes for liftin chairsYou ain't rich, but we glad to snatch yaI send cars to crib like I'm a cab dispatchayou better off wit ya stupid guys, lookin for a coupe to driveyou ain't gettin nuttin but ya french fries supersizedit's a damn shame y'all still localI'm in a million dollar studio layin my vocals(Chorus(Busta Rhymes)): We got the real live shit from front to backTo my people in the world, where the hell you at?Where my soldiers is at? (x2)Where my real live soldiers, where my soldiers is at? (Repeat all x2)P Diddy: I told y'all, 10 years from now we'll still be on top. We jus begun...Thank you, Thank you...B-I-G forever, bad boy baby, you know the rest.(Busta Rhymes): We got the life shit.(Biggie Gun):Gos shit wanna do...
