Dying With Your Boots On
Scarface
Scarface
SCARFACE
- Dying With Your Boots On LyricsTrouble seems to catch a motherf*cker with his cards down
Gotta keep my drawers up, shit's gettin' hard now
These motherf*ckin' cops be plantin' shit on these niggas
Simply because these niggas got bank accounts that's bigger
I just can't get no peace from you motherf*ckin' rollers
Every time I pull my Benz-o out, you pull me over
I'm sick of motherf*ckers who be jocking Whitey's coattails
Blacker than a motherf*cker, sweat me 'bout my dope-sales
Niggas just take your cut and get your ass up out my face
The only thing you probably get from me is a cock-suckin' pistol case
Unless you plan on plantin' a lil' somethin' in my shit
Just because you ain't got shit, bitch
Give 'em a badge and a trigger and that makes 'em figure
That they can f*ck with a million dollar nigga
They got you mixed up, fixed up at the Segas, shookin' Indo
Gettin' f*cked up in the gank-hole
The only way you'll whip that motherf*cker
Is when you whip that motherf*cker
And we choke the motherf*cker
(Man, f*ck that motherf*cker)
So when you hear my song and wanna get it on
You better come prepared motherf*cker
You dyin' wit'cha boots on
(Put ya foot in my shoe, and let me try on your boots) Dyin' wit'cha boots on
(Put ya foot in my shoe, and let me try on your boots)
Yeah
Do you know how many years you're facing inside?
25 to life and that's on the real
So you better snitch on your partner
f*ck that, it was Brad Dawg, I ain't goin' out by myself
Niggas gettin' caught, doin' time, so they snitchin'
They pickin' niggas up on a funky ass suspicion
We'll be goin' down for some questioning we think
And end up gettin' hit with the f*ckin' kitchen sink
Racketeer and laundering, Kingpin wondering
If they got some unsolved murders, then give him some of them
Just because we're niggas and they figure we're no smarter
We'll sell each other out and start rattin' on our partners
They start bringin' up shit that happened back in '85
And then comes the largest jury, bitch, they f*ckin' time
You might as well play the state 'cause you gon' do day for day
And sellin' out your homeboys ain't the shit
'Cause y'all gonna have to die in this bitch, bitch
Lobbin' wit'cha white suits on
And dyin' wit'cha motherf*ckin' boots on
(Put ya foot in my shoe, and let me try on your boots)
Gotta keep my drawers up, shit's gettin' hard now
These motherf*ckin' cops be plantin' shit on these niggas
Simply because these niggas got bank accounts that's bigger
I just can't get no peace from you motherf*ckin' rollers
Every time I pull my Benz-o out, you pull me over
I'm sick of motherf*ckers who be jocking Whitey's coattails
Blacker than a motherf*cker, sweat me 'bout my dope-sales
Niggas just take your cut and get your ass up out my face
The only thing you probably get from me is a cock-suckin' pistol case
Unless you plan on plantin' a lil' somethin' in my shit
Just because you ain't got shit, bitch
Give 'em a badge and a trigger and that makes 'em figure
That they can f*ck with a million dollar nigga
They got you mixed up, fixed up at the Segas, shookin' Indo
Gettin' f*cked up in the gank-hole
The only way you'll whip that motherf*cker
Is when you whip that motherf*cker
And we choke the motherf*cker
(Man, f*ck that motherf*cker)
So when you hear my song and wanna get it on
You better come prepared motherf*cker
You dyin' wit'cha boots on
(Put ya foot in my shoe, and let me try on your boots) Dyin' wit'cha boots on
(Put ya foot in my shoe, and let me try on your boots)
Yeah
Do you know how many years you're facing inside?
25 to life and that's on the real
So you better snitch on your partner
f*ck that, it was Brad Dawg, I ain't goin' out by myself
Niggas gettin' caught, doin' time, so they snitchin'
They pickin' niggas up on a funky ass suspicion
We'll be goin' down for some questioning we think
And end up gettin' hit with the f*ckin' kitchen sink
Racketeer and laundering, Kingpin wondering
If they got some unsolved murders, then give him some of them
Just because we're niggas and they figure we're no smarter
We'll sell each other out and start rattin' on our partners
They start bringin' up shit that happened back in '85
And then comes the largest jury, bitch, they f*ckin' time
You might as well play the state 'cause you gon' do day for day
And sellin' out your homeboys ain't the shit
'Cause y'all gonna have to die in this bitch, bitch
Lobbin' wit'cha white suits on
And dyin' wit'cha motherf*ckin' boots on
(Put ya foot in my shoe, and let me try on your boots)
Facts about Dying With Your Boots On
✔️
Dying With Your Boots On is written by Joseph Johnson, Brad Jordan.
✔️
It is first released on August 17, 1993 as part of Scarface's album "The World Is Yours" which includes 17 tracks in total. This song is the 7th track on this album.
✔️
Dying With Your Boots On falls under the genres Hip Hop, Rap.
✔️
Dying With Your Boots On song length is 2 minutes and 34 seconds.
Who wrote Dying With Your Boots On lyrics?
Dying With Your Boots On is written by Joseph Johnson, Brad Jordan.
✔️
When was Dying With Your Boots On released?
It is first released on August 17, 1993 as part of Scarface's album "The World Is Yours" which includes 17 tracks in total. This song is the 7th track on this album.
✔️
Which genre is Dying With Your Boots On?
Dying With Your Boots On falls under the genres Hip Hop, Rap.
✔️
How long is the song Dying With Your Boots On?
Dying With Your Boots On song length is 2 minutes and 34 seconds.
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Songwriter(s): Joseph Johnson, Brad Jordan
Record Label(s): 2010 Virgin Records America, Inc All rights reserved Unauthorized reproduction is a violation of applicable laws Manufactured by Virgin Records A
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