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P. Diddy - Victory 2004 lyrics
[P. Diddy]
 10 years...
 Yo the sun don't shine forever but as long as it's 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 niggas in the world, where the fuck you at?
 Where my niggas is at? [2X]
 Where the fuck my bitches at?
 Where my bitches is at?
 [P. Diddy]
 You know it can't stay dark for long
 They say it's darkest before the dawn
 Cars before the storm
 I'm happy makes a bethus now preaching the songP. Diddy - Victory 2004 - http://motolyrics.com/p-diddy/victory-2004-lyrics.html
 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 it's 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 niggas in the world, where the fuck you at?
 Where my niggas is at? [2X]
 Where the fuck my bitches at?
 Where my bitches is at?
 [Busta Rhymes]
 Who got the real live shit!
Fuck yaw niggas wanna do?









