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"Wayz Of Life" lyrics by STREETLIFE
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"Wayz Of Life"


[Intro: La Banga (Carlton Fisk)]
You hear this shit, son? (yeah... the fuck is that?)
This shit is murderous, dog! (yeah)
Come here... FUCK IT, LET's GO! (House Gang!)

[La Banga:]
Yo y'all hear that base in that beat knockin'?
To it we be rockin', like thug wars, twenty minutes a heat poppin'
Yo that's a lot of shells droppin'
Breakin' nothin' but injury tolls and body counts
Spectators are spreadin' out like niggaz with weights spread work out
A live nigga always walks with his Herc' out
He gets tried, heat pops off and merks out
He gon' leave somethin' that burns worse than workouts
Intensive fire, no nigga should die for petty jive
Niggaz is dyin' for crumbs compared to eighty-five
Gettin' knocked for petty crime, serious as gettin' bagged
With nines and an asshole full of dimes
Talk is foolish, the only thing now is show and prove it
Back what you doin', roll with ya niggaz that's gon' hold and shoot it
Not the niggaz that's gon' fold in movement
Avoid cowards who should be exiled for mini-power

[Hook: La Banga (Carlton Fisk)]
Aiyo we show a little muscle, strong-arm, hustle
It's House Gang so fuck you (Nigga you heard it right)
If you livin' in the struggle, prone to all trouble
Cops tryin' to cuff you (Then run for ya life)
If you a beast or gorilla, Animal gettin' skrilla
Keep gettin' it killa (Control ya life)
Either you starve when you don't eat, get cold when you hold heat
Then listen to the O.G. (It's the Animal Way of Life)

[Carlton Fisk:]
Extort the moment, sniper leave them focused
Indeed I'm hopin' these haters keep believin' it's over
House Gang, these my soldiers
All born grinders, pressure bust pipes and make diamonds
You know the temperature'll stay risin', Carlo stay ridin'
Whips with low milleage, with my whole Island
Sick and so violent, N.Y.C., respect dollars
Or shots come over from choppers
And my team, all pirahnas on a quest for prophet
Criminal logic, tell these little niggaz to stop it
Blast guns on V.V.D's and want no problems
Lord Tariqo, federal royal, tap ya pocket
Stay low, Carlo out of reach like rainbows
In the same clothes, in or out of state, I change hoes
Switch whips quick, nigga, stay in them plain clothes
That's how the game go, my name'll remain though

[Hook]

[Streetlife:]
You on the outside lookin' in
I'm on the inside lookin' out, the scope lens nigga zoomin' in
Vacate, movin' in, no set date, comin' soon
I hope you honeymooners listenin'
You haters try to do me in, the Street hooligan
You fucked up, got me in a bad mood again
I'm on my second wind, watch me get this CREAM again
Eatin' off of platinum plates like I won at Wimbledon
Street, who can get with him? Staten Island veteran
Bang with the best, smoke L's for the rest of them
Next of kin, who best to put Stat on the map again?
Streetlife (House Gang), tell me who better then?

[Hook]

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