Victory, victory

Gold on my neck—Mr. T

Victory, victoryZombie Gang reppin′ that NYC

Victory, victory

Ice round my neck like I'm Lil Weezy

We run this shit like a pair of cleats

It′s hell on earth but this where I be

Money over bitches on my headstone

Here lies young nigga gettin' paid

Never take a loss on my headstone

Only take a L when I'm smokin′ it

Zombie gang three times on my headstone

Been thuggin′ from the cradle to the grave

Now your favorite rapper name on a headstone

Too late—he already dead

Imagine when you're thirty thousand feet up what you think of?

Boy, I hated knowin′ that my thoughts deterred a dream

'Cause I never knew I′d get my chance to link up

Boy, I tell you, all of this unusual to me

Swear I came from the bottom, Flatbush livin', walkin′ dead on

Put your favorite rapper's name up on a headstone

Biggie Big for the cheese and you're dead wrong

Propaganda set the standards in the terrordome

I hit it doggystyle, she throw it back, yeah, I′m born to mack

It′s dark and Hell is hot so leave me where I'm at

I′m livin' how I wanna, no reasonable doubt

It′s clear to see, all eyez on me, 400 degrees

Who am I? Ruthless, Eazy does it

The chronic smoke in public, hate it or love it

The underdogs, with liquid swords

It was written in my diary this art of war

I'm feelin′ infamous, immortal with my technique

A revolutionary shinin', with diamond teeth

Young Don Cartagena, excuse my demeanor, this the glamour life

You still not a player, you ain't half as nice

I′m born again, life after death, I made the sacrifice

I′m supa dupa fly, Juicy keep them hypnotized

I said my name is Juice, AmeriKKKa's most

Ain′t no half-steppin', see you at tha crossroads

Put money over bitches on my headstone

Here lies young nigga gettin′ paper

Never take a loss on my headstone

Only take an L when I'm smokin′ it

Zombie gang three times on my headstone

Been thuggin' from the cradle to the grave

Now your favorite rapper name on a headstone

Too late—he already dead

It was written in the children's story, that life′s a bitch

So what′cha want? Everyday I struggle with it

Only God can judge me slippin', I′m infinitely big pimpin'

Though the genesis, dead presidents, drop a gem on ′em

Hell on earth, these the last dayz, throw ya guns up

Get money, Quiet Storm, havin' suicidal thoughts

For the C.R.E.A.M, renegade

For the money, all the green is the lemonade

I′m a playa on the late night tip, shorty triple six

She the prototype, Tip drill, kiss her fingertips

Resevoir Dogs, check the score, ignorant shit

Blackout, can I live? Hellrazor, still feel me

Kiss of death, and protect ya neck

Three dope boys in a Cadillac, Gravediggaz

Kiss of death, and protect ya neck, shame on a nigga

Three dope boys in a Cadillac, Gravediggaz

Put money over bitches on my headstone

Here lies young nigga gettin' paper

Never take a loss on my headstone

Only take a L when I'm smokin′ it

Zombie gang three times on my headstone

Been thuggin′ from the cradle to the grave

Now your favorite rapper name on a headstone

Too late—he already dead

Right now I'm on the edge (so don′t push me)

Troublesome since '96 (you a shook one)

Breath easy, know the ledge (I′m your pusha)

What's that? I smell pussy

Let me count my guns, um, hm

Five, four, three, two, one, run!

Hi, my name is Durt Cobain

Like a pimp, here I go, ′til the next, episode

Ain't a nann nigga this explosive

Beast Coast shit (blat-blat!) reloaded

Fuck them other niggas, ride or die for my niggas

Strictly 4 my niggas, survival of the fittest

Woop-woop! That's the sound of the police, I′m in deep cover

Earth, skrt skrt, lean back, give me one more chance

They say Jesus walks and the Devil wear Prada

But I′m so, so deaf, God can't tell me nothing

Write this on my death certificate, I gave you power

21 questions, like who shot ya? I shot ya!

Warning, watch them niggas flashin′ lights papparazi

Two words, fuck bitches, get money

Tonight's da night, guess who′s back on my block

Rather unique, I lick a shot in Bucktown

This firearm silencer on, that quiet storm

T-O-N-Y—top of New York with a pitchfork