DEAD OR ALIVE
young buck ft. paul wall Lyrics
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Keepin' heat up on my lap, I'm throwed, I'm throwed
Every hood that I'm in, white cup in my hand
Blowin' kush in the wind, I'm blowed, I'm blowed
Any day of da week, new grill, new piece
From my head to my feet, I'm cold, I'm cold
New shoes on my ride, bad bitch on my side
I'm higher than a top flite, throwed 'em like a splitter
My pockets keep gettin' bigger 'cause I'm one bad figga
Boppas 'n' gold diggaz on the track, at work
I'm hurtin' feelins in dat Benz wit a deuce and a Squirt
I'm a filibuster for hustlers, invadin' dem mark bustaz
Leanin' like I'm on crutches as I ski taste slurp
Swangin' and woodworkin', convertin' these closed curtains
For certain, I better not spill no purple drank on my shirt
I'm hustle for occupation, I'm grindin', paper chasin'
These boys are steady hatin', so this pistol, I'm embracin'
Dat Lac is so amazin' and da elbows is skatin'
Cranker wires 'n' vogue tires, one hell of collaboration
Amos, Farris 'n' Slaton, we, Jordan, Jackson 'n' Pippen
Banana clip for dem snitches tryin' to monkey wrench my pimpin'
Never been caught slippin' 'cause dat glock, I hold
Now let me tell ya how I roll, come on
You can catch me ridin' in da Lac top down, seat back
Keepin' heat up on my lap, I'm throwed, I'm throwed
Every hood that I'm in, white cup in my hand
Blowin' kush in the wind, I'm blowed, I'm blowed
Any day of da week, new grill, new piece
From my head to my feet, I'm cold, I'm cold
New shoes on my ride, bad bitch on my side
Man, dat's how gangstas roll, dat's how gangstas roll
I'm comin' down in a candy Lac, old skool
Wavin' trunk on dem punks, act a fool
Tippin' paint, drippin' wet like a pool
Breakin' brews, neck cool, it's full of jewels
Rumor is dat dem jackass on da sideline, schemin' and plottin'
But my mind on dem boppaz, if I spot 'em I got 'em
I got slabs, I got foreigns wit da seats, all plush
I got brandy wine gloss, baby, please don't touch
I got 20s, I got 4s I got screens and such
Boppaz yappin' 'cause they say I tend to cap too much
I got starch in my jeans and da crease so sharp
Headlights on my ear when the night get dark
White ones on my toes, brand new, out the box
Interior decorate the watch, I'm connectin the dots
I got stocks, I got money, that's a fat billfold
Now let me tell ya how I roll, come on
You can catch me ridin' in da Lac top down, seat back
Keepin' heat up on my lap, I'm throwed, I'm throwed
Every hood that I'm in, white cup in my hand
Blowin' kush in the wind, I'm blowed, I'm blowed
Any day of da week, new grill, new piece
From my head to my feet, I'm cold, I'm cold
New shoes on my ride, bad bitch on my side
Man, dat's how gangstas roll, dat's how gangstas roll
Hatin' is so contagious, these days, there's no cure
This new outbreak creatin' is out of hand for sure
These boys are steady lyin', my money is multiplyin'
Look close, there's no denyin', them boys softer than fur
Killa kush smoke, I blow as the lungs inhale
Gangsta leanin' on dat oil, I got a story to tell
Laws trippin' when they see me askin', "What's that smell?"
Raw FedEx-ed me some x pills, we call it email
Lights, camera, action, I'm the shit and I show it
A young gangsta hood boy, so fly and I know it
Steady breakin' boys off, 5 karat in earlobe
Givin' somethin' that you can feel, my swangas is in vogue
I'm too cool for school, all work no play
Impeccable with this pen, I got somethin' to say
My repertoire is throwed, I follow the G code
Let me tell ya how I roll, come on
You can catch me ridin' in da Lac top down, seat back
Keepin' heat up on my lap, I'm throwed, I'm throwed
Every hood that I'm in, white cup in my hand
Blowin' kush in the wind, I'm blowed, I'm blowed
Any day of da week, new grill, new piece
From my head to my feet, I'm cold, I'm cold
New shoes on my ride, bad bitch on my side
Man, dat's how gangstas roll, dat's how gangstas roll
The lyrics to Young Buck ft. Paul Wall's song "Dead or Alive" depict the lifestyle of a gangsta who is living life to the fullest. The first verse talks about riding in a fancy car, with the seat back and heat on their lap. They have a white cup in their hand and are blowing kush in the wind. The second verse is about how the rapper is unstoppable, their pockets keep getting bigger, they are hurting feelings, and they are converting closed curtains. The chorus repeats how they roll, with the freshest gear and the baddest girl by their side.
The third verse discusses rumors about people plotting and scheming against them, but they're only focused on the women they can get. They have the nicest car, clothes, and shoes, and they're not afraid to show it off. In the fourth verse, they talk about how haters are contagious, always lying while they're money is multiplying. They smoke weed and lean on their car, while the laws are always tripping. They conclude that they're too cool for school and that they follow the G code.
Overall, the song is about the gangsta lifestyle, with references to cars, money, and women. It promotes the idea of living life on your terms and not caring about what others think.
Line by Line Meaning
You can catch me ridin' in da Lac top down, seat back
I'm driving my car with the top down and the seat back.
Keepin' heat up on my lap, I'm throwed, I'm throwed
I'm carrying a gun on my lap and I'm high.
Every hood that I'm in, white cup in my hand
I have a white cup in my hand in every neighborhood I go to.
Blowin' kush in the wind, I'm blowed, I'm blowed
I'm smoking weed and I'm high.
Any day of da week, new grill, new piece
Any day of the week, I have a new grill (teeth) and new jewelry.
From my head to my feet, I'm cold, I'm cold
I have cool fashion and style from head to toe.
New shoes on my ride, bad bitch on my side
I have new shoes on my car and a beautiful woman with me.
Man, dat's how gangstas roll, dat's how gangstas roll
That's how gangsters live and that's how we do it.
I'm higher than a top flite, throwed 'em like a splitter
I'm extremely high and feeling great.
My pockets keep gettin' bigger 'cause I'm one bad figga
I'm making lots of money and I'm a bad person.
Boppas 'n' gold diggaz on the track, at work
There are people trying to take advantage of me and my money.
I'm hurtin' feelins in dat Benz wit a deuce and a Squirt
I'm driving my Benz and drinking a mixed drink with codeine.
I'm a filibuster for hustlers, invadin' dem mark bustaz
I'm a talkative person who distracts others while hustling and avoiding the police.
Leanin' like I'm on crutches as I ski taste slurp
I'm drinking syrup and leaning to the side like I'm on crutches.
Swangin' and woodworkin', convertin' these closed curtains
I'm driving my car with wide turns and showing off my car's customization.
For certain, I better not spill no purple drank on my shirt
I can't spill any of my purple drank on my clothes.
I'm hustle for occupation, I'm grindin', paper chasin'
I'm hustling to make money and chasing after profit.
These boys are steady hatin', so this pistol, I'm embracin'
People are always hating on me, so I carry a gun.
Dat Lac is so amazin' and da elbows is skatin'
My car is amazing and has nice rims.
Cranker wires 'n' vogue tires, one hell of collaboration
My car has unique and stylish wheels.
Amos, Farris 'n' Slaton, we, Jordan, Jackson 'n' Pippen
I have a group of friends who stick together like famous basketball players.
Banana clip for dem snitches tryin' to monkey wrench my pimpin'
I have a large gun magazine for anyone trying to interfere with my lifestyle.
Never been caught slippin' 'cause dat glock, I hold
I've never been caught off guard because I always have my gun.
Hatin' is so contagious, these days, there's no cure
People are jealous and negative for no reason and it's becoming more common.
This new outbreak creatin' is out of hand for sure
The level of negative and jealous behavior is becoming overwhelming.
These boys are steady lyin', my money is multiplyin'
People are constantly lying to me, but I'm still making lots of money.
Look close, there's no denyin', them boys softer than fur
If you look closely, you'll see that these people are weak and soft.
Killa kush smoke, I blow as the lungs inhale
I'm smoking really strong weed and exhaling it.
Gangsta leanin' on dat oil, I got a story to tell
I'm leaning to the side while driving and I have a story to share.
Laws trippin' when they see me askin', "What's that smell?"
Police officers get suspicious when they see me and smell my marijuana smoke.
Raw FedEx-ed me some x pills, we call it email
I received some illegal drugs in the mail.
I'm too cool for school, all work no play
I'm too cool to follow rules and only focus on making money.
Impeccable with this pen, I got somethin' to say
I'm really good at writing and have something to express.
My repertoire is throwed, I follow the G code
My style and skills are impressive and I follow the gangster code of conduct.
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Written by: MARVIN GAYE, MARVIN P GAYE, JAMES NYX, CRYSTAL SLAYTON, PAUL MICHAEL SLAYTON, LEROY WILLIAMS
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind