The songs we play Don't equal the bills we have to pay So it's blood for cash I sell my cells to feed myself And fill my tank with fossil fuels Chorus
Payback is just a word to keep our spirits up And take karma into our own hands This is where the rumors start And boys somehow regain their hearts
(Instrumental)
beat then with me they join Others sworn, under oath or banished, left completely scorned You tell lies, get caught, nigga kick rocks You never did blend in with the big shots On the fast track
Jet you through the fast lane drop ya on death row 'Cause anybody who's been there knows that life ain't so lovely On the blood-soaked fast track that
on a mission Bad move, you end up missin [ ROUND 1: Randy Mac ] Let's get it straight for the '89 tip Randy Mac is clockin a stupid grip On the party track
shovel's for drama, need I say more? Got the fat stash spot under my passenger floor That's for the other strap, the automatic type I gotta keep it close
stop. They want me in the ground, but I won't stop. 'Til I'm dead, man, I won't stop. No. Yeah, i think they mad 'cause I'm driving in the fast lane
yard I sell it whip on whip, it's off the hard I'm the neighborhood Pusha Call me sub woofer, 'cause I pump bass like that, Jack On or off the track,
s no b'ness like show b'ness In the hood they say, there's no b'ness like hoe b'ness, you know They say I talk a lil' fast, but if you listen a lil' faster
my laughter My grove takes my life To a live firecracker Never sleep All my dreams end in disaster Life in the fast lane just got faster What's your
s your name? Shake that thing baby don't be ashame Untame smokin like Mary Jane, God damn your body is sayin you lil fly den a plane u hotter then da other
' follow me Yeah, you from D-Block right? Ruff Rydin all night, you outta see my lights Watch the 'gnac get chased by the champagne Mary jane blowin, livin life in the fast
throw me off track But they just hurdles I'm marathoning to the money and you just running off in a circle Man, I'm huddled up with my team, in other
to the meadows Well she can't stay in that fucking hood forever, forever Was made for that Mick Jagger shit Baggage check and a chick Fast girls, faster
she can't stay in that fuckin' hood forever (forever?) We was made for that mick jagger shit, bag a chick, and a chick Fast girls, faster whips, big
shoes Shorties clockin' me Always be coming in the two Niggas from the north I'm bringing you tracks and good news My debut was real to the blind industry
