We Do This Fa Passion

歌詞

You see my homies is killas.. (Kill, kill, kill, murder, murder, murder, murder) (Kill, kill, kill, murder, murder, murder, murder) (Kill, kill, kill, murder, murder, murder, murder).. [Daz Dillinger] See if you come my way, I roll with tec-9's, AK's Murder machines, for where I hang and stay Obey the laws of the street, 'fore yo' bitch ass get beat And I'm hoein' and I'm only out to rob and cheat Get your pistols and rags, nigga prepare to blast It ain't no questions or discussion, get the dope and the cash We came up quick, plottin' on real bitch shit Three-hundred and fifty G's, three niggaz was split Flippin' and servin' chickens Any dirty work - I was down with it A true soldier and I stay committed [Chorus] You see my homies is killas and we do this for passion You better get your strap cause when I see you we blastin' And when we run up on you ain't gon' be no askin' Cause me and my homies we just straight out blast [Daz Dillinger] I guess the war's on, get your soldiers and let's go to war Put in work Death Row - even the score Mini machine guns, grenades, and forty-fives We crazy in the land where it's hard to survive Catchin' niggaz slippin' if you're Bloodin' or Crippin' On a mission blastin' niggaz if you all wit it You see we bang for a livin', use the gun Drugs and prison, niggaz doin' hella time Roll with these scandalous niggaz Back looped out, smoked out Hit another one, I'm bombed out, smoked out So we load and swerve in the glass house and we roll the street My brand niggaz run up on you so we pull up the heat I said "What's up?"... he replied with the wrong set It's my duty and my job to put this nigga to rest Boom, boom - shots from the tec rain out Another wrong nigga dead, that's what I'm talkin' about Niggaz yell my name out and say they gon' kill me I ain't worried 'bout a thang, y'all niggaz can't kill me! [Chorus] You see my homies is killas and we do this for passion You better get your strap cause when I see you we blastin' And when we run up on you ain't gon' be no askin' Cause me and my homies we just straight out blast [Daz Dillinger] I kick off the war, with a calibur fo'- fo' Knockin' down doors and niggaz wonder what I came for Jumpin' out of buckets, dumpin' on them brand motherfuckers Who claim for the fame, puttin' somethin' up in you bustas Looped out, feelin' good no doubt With a tec ready to put some motherfuckin' heads out Servin' fools, pull around the corner Slow down and jump out, to show you what I'm all about I'm yellin' "Fuck you nigga!" and I hope you die Showin' y'all niggaz how real gangstas ride Come up workin' for birds early, busta young died early Ridin' dirty with a gauge underage Had to drop off the pump, that's when the real shit start Y'all bitch ass niggaz ain't got heart, y'all cowards We give it up, inject pain on niggaz and conversate with the trigger Blast, escape, then get to dippin' Set trippin's like an everyday thang, where we hang Still Tha Gang, where we blast to maintain at close range AK's, 357's, and tec's - all kind of shit Catch you niggaz slippin' because we Crippin' on the set Willin', looped out, your homie just got out Dogg Pound 'bout to take you niggaz out [Chorus] You see my homies is killas and we do this for passion (You see my homies is killas) You see my homies is killas and we do this for passion You see my homies is killas and we do this for passion You see my homies is killas and we do this for passion You see my homies is killas and we do this for passion You see my homies is killas and we do this for passion You see my homies is killas and we do this for passion