- Votes:
- See also:
Cappadonna - Pain Is Love lyrics
F/ Lounge Mode, Solomon Childs
 [Chorus: Cappadonna]
 Pain is love, that's what this nigga told me
 I keep washin' my face with blunts and O.E
 Mix coke with dust, still can hold me
 What made ya muthafuckas think you control me?
 [Lounge Mode]
 Staten Island been wildin', so Osama's nothing
 And my niggaz out in Brooklyn said Saddam was frontin'
 Gotta squad, what you think, it ain't no guns or something?
 Picture Me Rollin', holdin' less than a one or somethin'
 You fake faggots, yeah we got that big automatic
 Like, Bruce Willis and the Jackal type, yeah, right
 You wanna see it? Then get on my nerves
 Oh you live, and I'm gettin' money spit on my curb
 In the hood where it get no harder, only tougher
 Crack fiends suffer, baby moms, baby brother
 Hustlin', still forty off a hundred packs
 I'd rather lounge in the back of the bar
 Me and my dog throw crack in the jar
 Listen to this rap star, while I sit back in the car
 And I told ya'll niggaz how the Staten rock
 We don't, trick on chicks, yo we clap them shots
 You get caught if you ask a lot, like you don't know
 And where you at, then ya ass is got
[Chorus]
 [Solomon Childs]
 We bringin' back the Twin Towers, 20-0-3, crack game electronic
 Conceived with slow jams by The Delfonics
 At a level that you should of been years ago
 Responsible usually for coke traffic, usually for broken bone tragic
 Rest in peace, to Mayor Guliani's termCappadonna - Pain Is Love - http://motolyrics.com/cappadonna/pain-is-love-lyrics.html
 They say I'm wrong, shit
 I'm try'nna see 26, with my daughters at the Emmy Awards
 All around the ball glowin', they got the weed flow droughted
 Or maybe niggaz in the hood just ain't 'bout it
 Talkin' Hercules, and ain't nothin' but dog food
 Staten Island, New York City drools
 Crazy glue on my fingerprints
 Name on the concrete of my hood, what's really good?
 Vendetta's with these rap stars
 Frontin' like this crime and the pet is they cars
 Believe I was God in my last life
 What if it was your knife? What if they was your gloves, nigga..
[Chorus]
 [Cappadonna]
 Aiyo, I came into this game on some real love shit
 And ya'll bitch ass niggaz, ya'll wanted me to quit
 Because the way I dress I'll and the way that I spit
 But I ain't never gon' stop, droppin' these joints
 And ya'll fake ass niggaz, ya'll ain't gettin' no points
 Don't try to sabotage me, cuz you just can't do it
 You had me in the Square, last year, but you blew it
 Big Donna from the group home, that's my word
 Splash shots at your whip, splash shots at your bird
 Leave your brains and your Gucci boots up on the curb
 Pillage for life, Allah's will be the most superb
 Smoke weed with the cannon, smoke the herb
 So bow down, all you crab ass clowns you can't live
 My gun's on empty, but it's more shots to give
 I pop you like a slave cop, run in your crib
 Throw darts at your wife, throw darts at your kid
 Leave your house flooded with hits like O.J. did
 Escapin' the crime scene and you love how I slid
[Chorus]









