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  • Main » P » P. Diddy » Victory 2004
    P. Diddy - Victory 2004 lyrics (Rating: 4.00)
    Posted: 29.07.2004
    Views: 308
    [P. Diddy]
    10 years...
    
    Yo the sun don't shine forever but as long as its here then we might as well shine togeher
    Better now than never business before pleasure
    P-Diddy and the Fam, who you know do it better?
    Yeah right, no matter what, we air tight
    So when you hear somethin, make sure you hear it right
    Don't make a ass outta yourself, by assumin
    My music keeps you movin, what are you provin?
    You know that I'm two levels above you baby
    Hug me baby, I'ma make you love me baby
    It's ten years and we still runnin this motherfucker
    
    [P. Diddy]
    Yeah!
    
    [B.I.G.]
    One
    
    [P. Diddy]
    As we procede to give you what you need!
    
    [B.I.G.]
    One...Two!
    
    [P. Diddy]
    It's all fucked up now!
    
    [50 Cent]
    Yo!
    
    [P. Diddy]
    What the fuck yaw gonna do now?
    
    [50 Cent]
    Yo, we can't stay alive forever
    So if shit hit the fan then we might as well die together
    I'm high as ever, more hoes and more cheddar
    G-Unit move around wit them pounds and berreta's
    Yea faggot, if I want it I'm gon' have it
    Regardless if it's handed to me or I gotta grab it
    Don't make a ass outta yaself tryin to stop me
    I'm cocky, raps rocky, nigga you sloppy
    You know that I'm, 8 levels above you nigga
    I'll club you nigga, I never heard of you nigga, ugly nigga
    I'm the wrong one to provoke
    And rattin on niggas is only gon' leave you smoke
    So the only thing left now is toast for these cowrads
    I got no friends, fuck most of these cowards
    They pop shit 'till we start approaching these cowards
    While we lay around dollars, they lay around flowers
    
    [B.I.G.]
    In The Commision, you ask for permission to hit em
    He don't like me, him and wild wifey was wit em
    You heard of us, the murderers, most shady
    Been on the low lately, the feds hate me
    The son of Satan, they say my killin's too blatant
    You hesitatin, I'm in your mama crib waitin
    Duct tapin, your fam destiny
    Lays in my hands, gat lays in my waist
    Francis, M to the iz-H phenominal
    Gun rest under your vest by the abdominal
    Rhyme a few bars so I can buy a few cars
    And I kick a few flows so I can pimp a few hoes
    Excellence is my presence, never tense
    Never hesitant, leave a nigga bent real quick
    Real sick, brawl nights, I perform like Mike
    Anyone -- Tyson, Jordan, Jackson
    Action, pack guns, ridiculous
    And I'm, quick to bust, if my ends you touch
    Kids or girl you touch, in this world I clutch
    Two auto-matoes, used to call me fatso
    Now you call me Castro, my rap flows
    Militant, y'all faggots ain't killin shit
    Ooops Cristal keep spillin shit, you overdid it homes
    You in the danger zone, you shouldn't be alone
    Hold hands and say it like me
    The most shady, Frankie baby, fantastic
    Graphic, tryin to make dough, like Jurassic
    Park did quick to spark kids who start shit
    See me, only me
    The Underboss of this holocaust
    Truly yours, Frank White
    
    [Chorus: Busta Rhymes]
    
    We got the real live shit from front to back
    To my people in the world, where the hell you at?
    Where my soldiers is at? [2X]
    Where my real live my soldiers?
    Where my soldiers is at?
    
    [P. Diddy]
    You know it can't stay dark for long
    They say its darkest before the dawn
    Cars before the storm
    I'm happy makes a bethus now preaching the song
    I can see B.I. rocking the Sean John yeah right
    This is for life afters like B.I. Frank White
    Yo Bad Boy for life
    No matter what the public say we gon prove
    There aint another MC who could feel ya shoes
    Cuz Biggie Smalls is the illest
    Realest my stones and killas got homes and villas
    Overseas and what was me I find out
    Who found out other MCs been tryin to find ya route
    This illman MC used to be on other shit
    Took home "Life after Death" and they studied it
    Listened to the double disk
    Now they all spit like they all legit
    Frank tell how we did!
    
    [B.I.G.]
    We got the shit, Mac tight, brass knuckles and flashlights
    The heaters in the two-seaters, with two midas
    Senoritas, kiss rings when you meet us
    P-Diddy run the city, show no pity
    I'm the witty one, Frank's the crook from the Brook'
    Matty broke the neck of your coke connect
    No respect squeeze off til all y'all diminish
    Shootouts for twenty minutes, until we finish
    Venice took the loot, escaped, in the Coupe
    Break bread, with the kiss, Peniro, sheek loops
    Black Rob joined the mob, it ain't no replacin him
    Niggaz step up, we just macin them
    Placin them in funerals, criminals turned aroused
    The Brick City, nobody come off like P-Diddy
    Businesswise, I play men
    Hide money on the Island Cayman, y'all just betray men
    You screamin, I position, competition
    Nother day in the life of the Comission
    
    [Lloyd Banks]
    I got a intergangstress who argue and steams wit reefer
    And who flip when I call a bitch like she Queen Latifah
    Not all the vehicle's is long enough to stash the streetsweeper
    This shit can get uglier than the Master P sneaker
    We slidin through the ruckus, wit prada on the chuckus
    Soon as spring break ho's home from college wanna fuck us
    I ain't here to drop knowledge on you suckas
    I'll sick rottweiler's on you fuckas, cops followin to cuff us
    Top dollars to discuss this, whole lotta zeros
    When it comes to paper I blow a soul outta aero
    I'ma break before I lay floor burried
    Besides, every rapper ain't a star, nigga plad ain't burberry
    You can't tame Lloyd, smokin by the big screen
    You changin the channel looks like I'm playin the game boy
    I know to watch botherin ya vision
    You reach and I'll put a dot on ya head like its part of yo religion
    Why party wit a pigeon?
    I'm blowin a 10 cuz Bush handin flyers for a party in a prison
    I'm in the gucci vest wit the green and red straps
    I'm the last rapper to scare niggas since Craig Mack
    Now every morning's a fast start
    And there aint problem gettin dressed cuz my closet got more aisles than pathmark
    Run, when we startin a wave
    And leave wit 12 shells in ya mouth like a carton of eggs
    I'm the young pimp pardon my age
    I don't got long hair but if I did she be partin my braids
    Niggas find what club they at
    Take 'em wit us, and run a train on 'em like a subway mac
    Get advances from grey Acura
    See these record labels got most artists gettin fucked like the gay rappa'
    I go the college on the tour
    I'm goin down in history nigga, next to Wallace and Shakur
    I keep ya ammo clean, text polished in the drawer
    Camera's by the hamper that mine into the floor
    By now, you probably heard of me
    Fresh outta surgery, flashy as a fuck, you gon' have to murder me
    Burglary, I'm leavin wit cha nike's bergendy, White T, bergendy
    You match now, back down
    Niggas love to hate you, but love you when you disappear
    Catch me on the boat wit weed smoke and fishing gear
    Heavy when I toke, C notes from different years
    Besly in the robe, re-motes for liftin chairs
    You ain't rich, but we glad to snatch ya
    I send cars to crib like I'm a cab dispatcha
    You better off wit ya stupid guys, lookin for a coupe to drive
    You ain't gettin nuttin but ya french fries supersized
    It's a damn shame y'all still local
    I'm in a million dollar studio layin my vocals
    Nigga
    
    [Chorus (x3): Busta Rhymes]
    
    We got the real live shit from front to back
    To my people in the world, where the hell you at?
    Where my soldiers is at? [2X]
    Where my real live my soldiers?
    Where my soldiers is at?
    
    [Busta Rhymes]
    Whe got the real live shit!
    
    What yaw niggas wanna do?