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lirik lagu success before i die – 19th street

[coco loc]
it’s the american dream to see success ‘fore death
so get by while you alive, until you ballin’ don’t rest
guess, i best to get my money right before i try to
let the world know that i’m a natural born rider
i often find myself in constant comfritations
with the police and takin’ trips to the station
i’m makin’ bail ’cause my mail comes in handy
c*style got my back on my sister baby daddy
i want more money than the average
’cause bein’ broke, i ain’t havin’ it, man i gots to have a grip
i flip some [?] g’s wit’ ease and keep stakin’
pass my own weight, the next day you get the package
reality havin’ me illegal just to make it
call me the money maker, makin’ moves with the jamaicans
just tryna succeed ‘fore whenever that is
since i’m the baddest, the low life’s gon’ have some status
[crooked i]
i’m caught up in society, the ranks below the middle class
keepin’ my heater stashed, down to mash on the tabs, blow the cash
livin’ life illegally, criminal mentality
for those who doesn’t understand how it feels to be a g
for bustas missin’, not dismissin’, and leavin’ them fools hangin’ll still maintain to slangin’ dope, yeah
from always makin’ chips to hittin’ l!cks on the boulevard
seein’ fools from the other side of the coast tryna act hard
when they come to my town, they bow down
when y’all get to namin’ names, me and the homies is finna clown
pounds of dub hittin’ ya chest just like a sub
i’m not on my own, my [?] headed for a dub
so much love to all the homies, maintanin’ the game
for the money and thangs, these low life gangstas

[chorus]
success before i die, i better stack all my chips before i die
i’m all on my own, out here from my way, yeah
success before i die

[lil’ tip toe]
another day, another dolla to be made
i’m hoppin’ on first class planes, around the world to get paid
the world is shady, that’s why tip don’t trust no souls
many glocks pop on my block to make yo’ whole mind explode
just like drama, foo’s really hate you when you’re broke
but on my mama, the hate be hatin’ when you’re rich loc
it ain’t no runnin’, ’cause every pack you take got blocked
you ain’t got k!llas, ’cause every k!lla you brought got knocked
i got much game foo since i be hangin’ with the best
millionaire gangsta riders representin’ to death
i confess, i guess i like the life i live
but i choose to stay low, ’cause the [?]
so i choose to stay low just like a 4 on d’s
droppin’ money in the hood ’cause tip got love fo’ the g’s
i got chips to squeeze while i’m headed fo’ success
before death, my rep was good is all that
while i’m thinkin’ of a masta plan like rakim
steppin’ out in some crocasacks that match my black brim
they see it barely, that b*tch like a solar eclipse
emptyin’ out the whole clip, then i disappear with the chips
i got your walkmen wide, with explosives to unload
when you put yo’ headphones on, then push play, they explode
blowin’ ya mind away, how can an a [?] rapper find a way
while my rhyme is a bulletproof suit, so put ya’ [?] away
i roll doughs, i sn*tch souls, i get at hoes, i roll wit’ a gat
i stroll strap, i kick mad flows
so before i go, i better be countin’ snaps
comin’ off strong [?] to the maximum, twistin’ caps
and uhm, you couldn’t explain this with a hypothesis
i regulate and create masterpieces, blowin’ yo’ ass to pieces
creases in khakis suits was ’86, now i sag [?] and still stackin’ chips
[chorus: 5x]
success before i die, i better stack all my chips before i die
i’m all on my own, out here from my way, yeah
success before i die

- 19th street

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