End Of The Road (y.a. Mix) by Roscoe
End Of The Road (y.a. Mix) lyrics
[Intro: Kurupt]
Death Pentagon like nigga, Gotti Sinatra
War zone, it's happenin', it's over
Yeah nigga, it's happenin'
I've been on that internet watchin' these niggaz right?
Y'all got so much to say right? It's happenin'
Nigga we 'bout to smash on you busta ass niggaz
Oh, y'all want somethin' from Kustapo nigga?
Oh we gon' show y'all niggaz
Y.A. - Youth Authority
First-round up, first-round draft picks nigga
Whole squad massive, movin' on these busta ass niggaz
What's up Tone?
[Tone]
We lookin' for a city bitch, one that I can get it wit
Move in and move out wit, I'm lookin' for a bout it bitch
One to cook the powder quick, that's my kinda bitch
Let's address the topic, come on let's get it poppin'
I've been hot since niggaz was pop lockin'
Break dancin' and beat boxin', been had the block poppin'
Nigga I'm a young prophet, young and had to weigh his options
This is big business, this is big Benz's
And my game's official, I ain't playin' wit you
This is war time and you ain't got no more time
And I got my niggaz on the way, bringin' more .9s
[Roscoe]
Yeah, fury and phrases, from furious phases
Murder and anguish, we mercilous gangstas nigga
Burners and bangers, we turn 'em and tangle 'em
We drinkin' on syrup nigga, we aimin' for sturnems as curtains
Tuck your shirt in partner, let your pistol show
Die like a man motherfucker, what you bitchin' for?
California days is drinkin', blazin' in the sunshine
Got a case, now I got a runaway devised
Speed chases, I'm blazin' the one-time
My barretta on my waist and I never hesitate
Pull it out when it's gun time
My O.G.'s corrupted my young mind
21 on the run with a gun
Young, dumb, full of cum, tryin' to get my funds
And I'ma ride to the fullest, duck and dodgin' the bullets
Fo'-fizzle on my side, niggaz die when I pull it
If I should get wasted, no sad faces
Bury me basic, no jewelry, no Jacob
Eyes blurry and blazed up
And don't be worryin' for me unless I wake up
And don't be pourin' no 40 for me, just drink up
We not a bunch of sad, punk ass, sit around and mope ass
no class cowards, with limo tinted windows on Eddie Bauer's
Soft as flowers, all off to chowder
We the killa click, nine millis filled with clips
No time to chill with flips, my mind on the scrilla flip
It's Youth Authority nigga, we shoot for arteries nigga
With loaded Rugers, Lugers, and Cougars in the car with me nigga
It's Y.A.
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