In this collaboration, Freddie Gibbs and 03 Greedo delve into the gritty realities of street life and the drug trade. The lyrics depict a world where survival hinges on illicit activities, with vivid portrayals of drug transactions, evading law enforcement, and flaunting wealth acquired through these means. The recurring references to "Death Row" symbolize both the high stakes of their lifestyle and a nod to the infamous record label known for its hard-edged artists. The song juxtaposes moments of opulence with the ever-present threat of incarceration or death, underscoring the precarious balance they navigate daily. Through their verses, Gibbs and Greedo offer an unflinching look at the consequences and allure of their choices, wrapped in a narrative that is as cautionary as it is celebratory. #StreetLife #HighStakes
Death Row
Lyrics
Yeah, Kane season
Twinkle on the beat, yeah
Twinkle on the beat, yeah
Whoa Kenny
Yeah yeah yeah
Smoking with a package then the package get you fucked off
When they sent the po-po to my door but y'all was ducked off
Fuckin' up a plate of sushi wontons with the duck sauce
Sent the pack of doggy to me, walkin' fuckin' buff soft
Pick your phone up, I just touched down with the bow bow
Pick your phone up, I just touched down with the puppy chow
Puttin' zones up, got a brick, I'm 'bout to bust it down, pick your phone up
Bet that rat ho wanna fuck me now, fuck me now
Busy button down, bust it down
Fuck the month, throw some hundreds down
Hundred pack, fifty pack, shippin' twenty piece
Chicken bucket, chicken nugget, bitch I feed the streets
Chopper block, mix that dope up with that fetty wop
Watch it drop, bitch I started sellin' ready rock, fuck a pot
You don't make a G a day you can't sit in the spot
Ho keep lookin' at me, you gon' suck this dick or not?
Take a bag, bust a lick, and run a check ho, a check ho
Bet them VV's in my neck glow
I just might go throw a Rollie on my next ho
Beat the pussy in the studio like Death Row, Death Row
Chopper give a nigga Death Row, Death Row
Fuck a rookie, need a vet ho
I just might go throw a Rollie on my next ho
Hundred kilos in my trunk, I might get Death Row
Cruisin' through the city in my oh-eighteen (skrrt)
Sendin' the bitches, servin' the fiends (ooh)
Ridin' through the street, just caught a lick (yeah)
Take that flip and I caught my first brick (ayy)
I'm a Baby Loc cri-ni-nip, role model ni-ni-nip
I ain't got the swag and got the sauce, I got the dri-ni-nip
I can do a feature, do a show, and hit the dealership
Ask Channel 7, people say I'm really dealin' shit
Brrrt my ad-lib, Drummer Gang, we generous
We gon' give your ass the blues 'cause we ain't never givin' shit
Everybody generals 'cause everybody militant
Drummer Gang the Army, the Navy, we killin' shit, ooh
Take a bag, bust a lick, and run a check ho, a check ho
Bet them VV's in my neck glow
I just might go throw a Rollie on my next ho
Beat the pussy in the studio like Death Row, Death Row
Chopper give a nigga Death Row, Death Row
Fuck a rookie, need a vet ho
I just might go throw a Rollie on my next ho
Hundred kilos in my trunk, I might get Death Row
Writer(s): Jason Jamal Jackson, Frederick Tipton
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Too Lost LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
What is the Meaning of Death Row
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