Edge Lyrics - Godfather Buried Alive - Shyne

[Verse 1] 

Uh uh, Uh, Uh 

Ayo, mac 10s and fake friends 

Lawyers little game homicide 25 with the fucking nigga face 'em 

But I'm still trill, still holdin 

Rollin gully until I'm froze, close in a box with a bomb in fluid 

Veins pumpin ice 

First some 15 keep that king pumping right 

Hard white, cold cash 

Hold fast, fold fast, through the city so gas 

No ass 

Straight head bitch, I'm one a from the feds 

Fuck comma raps, same G and canna 

All I got in this world is my fifth dick and nana 

Gangsta mannerism lyrical vandalism 

Niggaz be burnin up their gums until the fucking hammers hit 'em 

Who need help? 

Well until then I'ma take that mac off the shelf 

and hold the fucking street hostage 

Blowing smoke out my nostril 

Every breath is a step to a non-time in death 

[Hook 2X] 

I want to know where to go 

Need a place in my mind I can rest 

Cause this time is running out for my flesh 

Dried up, sittin' in a chair fried up 

[Verse 2] 

You know me; I don't need no introduction in this 

Big gun, big dick, half of a meal on the wrist 

Sittin in my continental thinkin' about potential connects 

I live in all, just pencil the best 

Parts of the live of a quintessential hustler 

When I pull a slide back 

Motherfuckers be hoppin' their faces don't get left open 

You understand? 

Shirt soaking, brain smoking left in the ocean floatin' 

Shyne Po, dough, stack, y'all Rap niggaz is trash 

I don't give a fuck how much records you sold 

Tryin' to be me 

Keep it real dog, you'll die to be me 

You want to know how it feel, don't you? 

To have a murder charge, took gun to the American Music Awards 

And live life against stars 

Doing 170 screaming "FUCK THE WORLD" (gangsta get outta the car) 

[Hook 2X] 

[Verse 3] 

Where the fuck them niggaz at? We gonna handle this beef 

Turn your mic off bitch; see me in the street 

Fuck peace 'til I'm rest in the dried up flesh is finish 

I don't know how to tell until I'm in the morgue 

Dysfunctional, highly uncomfortable paranoid 

Without the extra clip (bitch), try me I'll puncture you 

Had niggaz waking up with wings in their backs, halos in their head like 

"Ayo I'm dead" 

Can a knight fucking princess Diana type 

Vane wives, vane light, pen I write cold, hand of ice 

They said too much for the motor mind to comprehend 

Walk wit me, pause take a breath 

Things ain't just the same for gangstas 

Sleeping in diamond, it's fucking up the game for gangstas 

While charges tryin to ring a gangsta 

Through it all I maintain my gangsta 

[Hook until fade]