all.(ya).got (remaster) ft. DJ.Fresh Lyrics

Needle at ninety

Tank nearly on empty

If I can't finish this run

Somebody better come and get me

I can't pass up a penny

Whether its shiny or sticky

Because these bills are like bad stories

We all have plenty

Some of these margins get thin

And logistics get tricky

Some roads are dead ends

But some will lead out of the city

So my back is to the wind

No leap is too risky

Because my chances been slim

And my alibi looking flimsy

You goddamn skippy

I be gritting with a purpose

The journey feels like home

My destination is uncertain

I been sprinting towards the skirmish

Begging them to pull my curtains

Really rap pay peanuts

I consider this a service

My actions are priceless

But my words are never worthless

Ain't achieved much yet

But what I've got I've earned it

Believe me I heard them

Down there telling me to stop

But it was hard to make it out

While we was grooving at the top

Speak up, bitch

(Give it all you got)

Let's keep it pushing pal

This ain't the place for conversation

I don't even like it here

And frankly that's an understatement

No negotiations

I ain't tripping off your situation

Truth be told this back and forth

Be wearing down my fucking patience

Them the stipulations

And the prices

You don't like them

Shop around

This where we live

Don't be out here talking loud

Excuse my hypervigilance

I'm checking our surroundings

Any night could bring trouble

You know it rarely makes announcements

I've never fought a war

That didn't find me first

And never walked into battle Without expecting to get hurt

I was never good with numbers

And your politics annoy me

I hate taking orders

So I'm not a good employee

They call it path dependence

I just say the game is rigged

I'd be half as pessimistic

If they didn't shake the bridge

To the other side of life

Where its safe to raise a kid

Now I ain't looking for a fight

But can't afford to take a hit

Just pay me

(Give it all you got)

Mama birthed no buster

The turf raised no quitter

This poverty creates hustlers

But that game makes hitters

So many play the numbers

But have the nerve to hate the winners

Return fire or take cover

Fall on your blade or surrender

A thousand ways to deliver

And a million to stall

Late nights and hot tempers

Ain't no chilling involved

They push lines, pull triggers

For problems worth killing to solve

Cheap dope and hard liquor

Keep them spilling the salt

You must be willing to fall

If you commit to living fast

Get familiar with those walls

Or just go run a different track

No detail is too small

You must have cents to get to stacks

And I can't build it up tall

Letting time slip through the cracks

Been rolling NASCAR gas

Louder than my exhaust

See no future like The Jacka

Let this Bone Thugs knock

While I ride with a cabbage patch

Little white girl in the glove box

If the rollers find the strap

I'll play pretend like a card board robot

(Give it all you got)