Izzy-Meeks - Lit Or Live

They don't ever have to call the paramedics bitch I'm too live
Defib mouth to mouth like she a medic bitch we too live
Never paying light and gas agin bitch we too lit
Call the fire Marshall's up agin bitch we too lit
They don't ever have to call the paramedics bitch I'm too live
Defib mouth to mouth like she a medic bitch we too live
Never paying light and gas agin bitch we too lit
Call the fire Marshall's up agin bitch we too lit
Bitch got me fucked up we just met and want a meal
Fuck I look like a food truck
Only hit my phone when you want a ride
Fuck I look like a city bus
I see your agenda
I read your syllabus
They trying so vigorous
Digging for gold with diligence
That only make me act villainous
I am not that generous
Playing hoes like an instrument
Wow em' with words a lyricist
I always been choosey
I wanted the life that I saw in the movies
Naked with floozies
Diamonds dancing watch em' do the Watusi
To Take care of Julie
Counting a mill in a big ass Jacuzzi
I know I'ma get it bitch
From writing these songs or moving the sushi
They don't ever have to call the paramedics bitch I'm too live
Defib mouth to mouth like she a medic bitch we too live
Never paying light and gas agin bitch we too lit
Call the fire Marshall's up agin bitch we too lit
They don't ever have to call the paramedics bitch I'm too live
Defib mouth to mouth like she a medic bitch we too live
Never paying light and gas agin bitch we too lit
Call the fire Marshall's up agin bitch we too lit
We came from Stateway Gardens we was selling dope bags
The fiends lined up for our shit like a fucking protest
We never did this shit to be cool
Limited our moves
We never quite knew what to do
But break all the rules
Why you wanna judge us
Like Judy or Mathis
We don't even have no small claims
No foods no rations
Fighting a pistol case
Rather have a court date then death date
High as fuck at my high school
Cause I had a better chance to die then I ever got to graduate
Packing bags like it's flight day
It's been 93 days and nigga I ain't missed one play
Dealing with pain in life
I ran outta dismay
Dealing the flour I toss it they catch it a wonderful bouquet
We engaged in the streets
To have and hold on the heat
To death we part no defeat
Returning shots no receipt
Hoes tell every week
Ain't no room to be sweet
Tight grip on my ends
I'm Shanon Sharpe in his cleats
They don't ever have to call the paramedics bitch I'm too live
Defib mouth to mouth like she a medic bitch we too live
Never paying light and gas agin bitch we too lit
Call the fire Marshall's up agin bitch we too lit

Written by:
Isadore Meeks

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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