Instrumenty
Ensembles
Opera
Kompozytorzy
Wykonawcy

Teksty: Necro. Brutality, Part 1. Our Life.

Yo, don't make me flip on you.
actually you can't make me do nothing...
i might decide to.

[Necro]
I used to mush thugs
and now i push drugs
I knew a kid that put slugs in his own mom
he used to show me his guns
ain't a cat that knows me as son
remember violence the only one
i used to watch how my pops would treat a girl
and beef with the world he had a bone to pick
that's why my dome was sick
it rubbed off on me
cos the apple dont fall far from the tree, g
you cats keep your distance
cos your scared i might flip in a instant
when i was filled with innocence
i was still commiting sins
half of you cats are sweet like cinnamon
i'll shove a knife in your grin
i run with convicts and stick up kids
that will rob you for 6 bucks bitch
we flip right before you expect it
'cause we were neglected as children now we're hectic
we shot men and we rob gems
i seen cats that used to clock me
now i clock them
got easier access to a glock ten
in case one in your face is the only option.

[Chorus]x2
Necro and Ill Bill
walk around like
murder murder, kill kill
gun up in ur grill

now u screamin chill chill
didn't have ur steele
now u get ur cap peeled
this is our life (our life)

[Ill Bill]
ayo i grew up in the motherfuckin projects
my mom says since my pop left
we had to get a section eight apparment
the rents cheap
i see decepticons at least 10 deep
run up on me flippin wanna set beef
that was some faggot shit
me and my brother ran for dolo
the only two white kids up in my projects
that wasn't homo
i fought everyday beefed with a hundred cats
way before i sold drugs and started bustin caps
way before i bust my first nut i loved to rap
at ten years old is when i first started to fuck with that
everyone else in my pjs who'd rhyme was black
i kept it to myself continued to define my crap
i used to buy my mother milk draggin a spiked bat
you fuck wit me i was the type of cat to fight bak
i lace you up for broken nose holdin the ice pack
white, black, puerto-rican's we was poor it was wack
my mom tried her best i never graduated high school
i learned to pump drugs and pack nines instead
became one of those violent heads have you on the respirator
even though the doctor know your mind is dead

[Chorus]x2
This is Our Life!