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Spice 1

Genres: Hip-Hop

High Powered Lyrics - Spice 1

Yeah, this is Speezie Ace Black Bossalinie 

Fetty Chico, Shiznilty 

I just want to say I got love for all you haters out there 

Cause if it wasn't for y'all, we wouldn't be real players 

Ha ha ha ha ha 

 

We're comin' in group with mob tactics and game 

Ghetto soldiers when we step on the scene 

Flossin' diamonds flashin' red beams 

My squad like the S.W.A.T. team 

Security areas scopin' I'm with the Fourteen 

By any means cream rules everything 

Money is power rather die like a soldier than 

Live my life as a coward 

How many players spit the real hits? 

How many ballers you know that you makin' scrill with? 

Haters be actin' like the game is gone 

But they ain't open they eyes 

I've been spendin' dead presidents since they was alive 

It's like Newport to G.P.C. 

Generic haters get smoked quick up because they cheep 

We yay deep like a shark I pull you under the water 

Get you caught up in some thug (Shhhh) 

Steady mobbin' and stackin' chips in the dirty Bay 

Suit angles and hittin' switches thugs ain't your average 

Marks just give up all they cabbage 

See the big fish eat up the guppies 

It's like real big dogs to little pound puppies 

.22 to a .50 cal.(iber) got 'em curious 

But my style was a problem child 

Robbin' banks when I was juvenile 

I told my P.O. (parole officer) I wouldn't give him no drama 

But if they try to take my life I'm dumpin', that's on my momma 

And my little girl the world is pre-timers 

Waitin' for a player like me to get behind her 

High Powered 

 

High 

High 

High 

High 

High 

 

(yeah playboy, real players lovin' to ball) 

(Natural Born Riders) 

(From the womb to the tomb) 

(We're real about this) 

(We at this) 

(Immortalized, High Powered for life) 

(We don't die we multiply) 

(Thugs, Energized like them batteries) 

(Ball for this moblife, move with Thugs) 

 

My life is all women and money 

But the money come over women 

I'm a worldwide self-made mob figure 

Ain't no room for suckers duckin' the undercovers 

Keep my strap on the side for the others who hate to love us 

want to be us, but they can't see us 

From a womb to the tomb I'm th-a-th-a-thugged out as a fiend IS 

Born sinnin' in a world of Yea-dealers 

Pretty women dickin' in us niggas twirkin' off bomb and liquor 

Hit the front page of St. Louis Time's 

High speed'n westside patna 

Felons committin' felonies and got the ATF all on my jock 

? cussin' back at smilin' will never stop 

We gotta duck see I'm callin' 4 or 5 different ghetto names 

Bossalinie, Fetty Chico, Shiznilty, Ebonic Slang 

Sported a rim since a B.G. original Bossalinie 

I'm tatted up thugged out bulletproofed wearin' a beanie 

Where the westside at? 

Where the eastside at? 

Where the NORTH where the SOUTH where the westside at? 

We're .50 caliber players mo' fools is .22's 

Murder next to my marrow killin' up streets with the blues 

Bossalinie, Fetty chico, been around since '89 

Steady .9-technism thuggism from the mind 

To the suckers who ain't knowin, that's just too damned bad 

I'm from the killa kali westside 

Where we ridin' for cash, I'm high powered 

 

[Chorus] 

 

(they ain't gon' win, they can't win) 

(We're ridin' for ever, they can't win) 

(Patna, you just can't win) 

(We're High Powered) 

(You ain't nothin' but High Coward) 

(It's 1999, Peep Speezie Ace Black Bossalinie) 

(Fetty chico, Shiznilty) 

(Immortalized) 

(Blaow!) 

 

[Chorus] 

 

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High-High-High-High-High 

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