Till I Die lyrics

[EIHT]
Geah
Thug sh*t, n*gga
G's in the Y-2-K
Hey, what can I say? (geah)
Hoo-Bangin's official, n*gga
And right now we gon' do some of that thug sh*t for that ass (killa)
Geah, that's makin' me wanna do some of that evil sh*t (West Side!)
Check it out

[EIHT]
Feel a little gust of wind so I jet
This real n*gga dwells from Compton, no sh*t
Thugs town, right now car jacks and sales
County bus rolls through - n*ggas trips to jail
What the hell won't trade it, high class can't fade it
Out of town trips with pigeons is how we made it
Y'all n*ggas hate to get a dubs and rocks
Land of the green weed and cars that ???? hops
Don't stop - packin' my heat and Beretta
Guarantee my hollows goes tough through your leather
Whenever the rhyme play or the 9 play (ping ping!)
It's a done deal when I hit you run way
Y'all n*ggas must be gay, smilin' and shakin'
How this b*tch greed shakin' up money, we keep mention
Never fakin' the funk, punk, I pops the trunk
4-5 hittin' yo' body, takin' a big chunk, geah

Till I die nuthin' but makin' cheese
Till I die tryin' to come up on ki's
Till I die nuthin' but guns and weed
Till I die givin' you just what you need

[EIHT]
Murda, murda, murda, kill, kill, kill
Steel is my reputation, caps get peeled
Front line n*gga for dollars is my n*gga
But I'm kinda fast when they spit the 9 triggers
Till my dying day I lay away
Till my very last breath, n*gga, I swear to make you pay
Guilty conscience? Never me!
Last night n*gga done caught a felony
Jealousy try to approach, wanna promote
Then provoke through gun smoke, watch out, loc!
Shake down cause these n*ggas f*ckin' with yours
Get in where you fit in even if it's a back door
Or the window, tie up the ho', where's the scope?
Trying to hand me you popped, you're booked, I want more
Lock down for me on the bus downtown
Now my - outlook is a sad-faced clown, geah

Chorus...

[MACK 10]
Till I die is gon' be H double O
B-A-N-G-I-N fo' sho'
n*ggas never thought that they would ever see me
With my - eh - blue rag buddy from the C-P-T
We be kickin' in do's, sweevin' 4-4's
Shovin' 30 clips in a fully Mack 1-0's
So as the clock tickin' - and the plot thickens
We be juggin' up Sherman - and rockin' up chicken
(What you need, n*gga?)
Time to elevate the game and turn it up a notch
And bust on the muthaf*ckin' neighborhood watch
My money greener than a clover - in a 4-6 Rover
I be a millionaire thuggin until it's all over
I take a ice cold 40 of Cristal and what they servin'
Me and a Persian ho in a 6-4 blowin' doja while we swervin'
Keep that off the hood, greed and determination in my eye, n*gga
Be my piece of the pie, n*gga, so I ride until I die,n*gga
Chorus...