Guns N' Roses Lyrics - Clipse

Uh, uh, uh, huh 

Clipse 

(Clipse) 

Exclusive shit 

(Exclusive shit) 

Yeah, who 

Guns n' roses mafia proses 

Briefcase money, hot cars, and hot clothes 

This is the life, nigga that's the life 

I wouldn't have it any other way 

Yeah, gun play burning loves the one die 

Makes me cry some days 

Lawless, riding backwards on a one way 

The color flawless, bitch I reek of money 

(Bitch) 

Fast life, born to die, who gives a fuck 

We done seen it all by 25, and lived it up 

From the rawest to the raw, to the slug through your door 

They missed you but pressed your bitch in a hollow tip bra 

There's science to the way we move, cock two's 

And walk through the club without scuffing our Prada shoes 

On this side we on the by by, we buy the rules 

So when you play with us y'all niggas just gotta lose 

Lust for them things that turn women to wives 

Live for that shit that determines your street size 

Run with them twins that waters you mother's eyes 

That's diamonds, cocaine, and burners on my thighs 

Raw like peeblo, guns and mink coats 

Light up canoes, till titanics, I sink ships 

Love doing bitches with pink lips, call me Padre 

Talk shit with a gun in my hand call me cockay 

Did this straight, bricks ain't large 

Bricks for weight, filling a crate, filling a barge, now that's large 

Sipping blue ells, and playing cards 

Plus a pat on the back from the fucking coastguard 

Yo, yo, I got a love for small lawns and hair pin triggers 

Dare niggas third in my crew, it's known killers 

Model hoes that blow with hour glass figures 

We live for raw sex and 80 proof liquors 

Run, walk, and crawl for catching hot balls 

From my dogs who take game while smoking lock jaws 

Why burn your mouth in the name of cheat talk 

Be prepared to change your tune by the time my heat spark 

After dark get your crew for me is a cake walk 

And I love rap records with lots of gun talk 

It's day time two both pies on waist sides 

Can't trace, I hop back crimson lake sides 

I make five which is why y'all hate 

I got dark skin, jet black bitches with jade eyes 

We wildin' out, hang them high, and dry them out 

I do them type of things y'all niggas is lying 'bout 

My speech is the reason my race is dying out 

So I pray to God, the same time I'm pulling the iron out 

We rock stars, smoke red, mixed with lobster 

We Jamaican sexing, pillow talking, and pop trois 

In pasta, look, you wanna be a mobster 

On stage recipient of a nice guy 

Malicious nigga y'all cats fictitious 

When the shit hits 

It's how you know we mean business 

Guns n' roses mafia proses 

Briefcase money, hot cars, and hot clothes 

This is the life, nigga that's the life 

Guns n' roses mafia proses 

Briefcase money, hot cars, and hot clothes 

This is the life, nigga that's the life 

When the slugs hits, I wonder will the pain last 

See my life like a movie, inside my brain fast 

I'm asking you, 'cause we used to rock the same ass 

When I die, put me in mausoleum with the stained glass, the stained glass 

When the slugs hits, I wonder will the pain last 

See my life like a movie, inside my brain fast 

I'm asking you, cause we used to rock the same ass 

When I die, put me in mausoleum with the stained glass, the stained glass