Breathe Easy Lyrics

SP Killer
Yeah yeah yeah, L-O-X, L-O-X motherf*cker
Niggas don't know how we bout to come this time
No more shiny suits
None of that shit

[Chorus: x2]
[Sheek Luchion]
We gonna R.U double F.R.Y.D.E
Revolver, semi-automatic and a P.G.
Hooptie getaway driver Breathe Easy
[Sheek Luchion]
Explain thing further
Murder or get murdered

[Verse 1:]
[Styles Paniro]
Half of the hustle, half of them killers
All of them Niggas wanna kill Paniro
Better send the guerrilla's
Cause beef is like a brand new car
You better ride
Everytime I sleep I die
Wish I was gone (ya know)
Felt dumb when I was young
I used to wish I was on
I'ma stay blunted and red with one in the head
Niggas thinkin' they the don
Till their shit get bombed
I put 4 in your shootin' arm
2 in your legs
Like 10 in your chest
The last one in your head
I give you the whole clip,
like you cheated and stole shit
Knocked off the pack, flossed and no chips
You know the business
Empty rap kill your co-defendant
Keep it male and catch a body in trial
If you want a Nigga dead than do it Holiday Styles
Come with 2 guns up and empty both off the clips
Kill you whole f*ckin' crew and go 'n smoke on the fifth

[Chorus: x2]

[Verse 2:]
[Sheek Luchion]
Yo, yo, yo
I come to your town on a Peter Pan, no Jack
One pair of clothes, 2 hoes and buggy with that
Wanna beef me?, y'all Niggas is borrowin' heat
Callin' all across town to borrow a full pound
Meanwhile this Nigga got his guns to your noggin
While your man with the heat is with some bitch up in the project
He clappin' at you, you duckin', makin' you dance
You should have spent it on some guns
Instead of Iceberg pants
What, L.O.X. off top, pullin' our triggers
With our guns on our lap, we ride around like Cali Niggers(WESTSIIIDE)
Target motherf*ckers, cold hearted motherf*ckers
Stead of young dumb your moms, and whoever she got with her
There's a new-born in the house,
then I'm killin' the babysitter
Y'all Niggas all clowns in Sheek eyes
Your moms would wear glasses,
with the nose disguise around me
Talkin greasy
Y'all like watermelons
Big but crack easy

[Chorus: x2]

[Verse 3:]
Now if you know Jay,
I never been a brother to front
I be in L.A. wearin' any colors I want
Rock guns like shirts, block under the punk
And I put somethin' hot, anyone of you chumps
And I know a few of you wanna get my watch
But it a be funeral if you get my watch
It ain't nothing y'all can do to stop the Lox' wealth
Run up in a gunstore, cop the top shelf
The Crack-game is dead, all they want is weed now
Chicks that I went to school with, a seed now
You know Kiss, stocky bald head, light brown
Ice down, in my roll look like nighttown
To all y'all lil' Jada's for the 1000th time
I recall hittin' your moms or writin' your rhymes
And just because you might have seen me,
in and out of your house
Is no way that she gon have a baby out of her mouth

[Chorus: till end]

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Songwriter(s): David Styles, Darrin Dean, Sean Jacobs, Anthony Fields, Jason Phillips
Publisher(s): Ryde Or Die Publishing, Dead Game Publishing, Paniro'S Publishing, Sheek Louchion Publishing, Jae Wons Publishing
Record Label(s): 2000 Ruff Ryders Interscope Records
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