One more road to cross (Rory MacDonald on UFC 129)
Chorus: dmx (repeat 2x)
One more road to cross One more risk to take Gotta live my life Like there’s one more move to make
[dmx] I’m up at like 6 am, to check this nigga He work the nightshift, and I gots to check them figures Knock on his door, peoples talkin bout, ’he ain’t there,’ But the house is packed, shit I know he here somewhere See money get high, I don’t knock what a nigga do to get by Just make sure you gettin by don’t fuck with you gettin mine Ain’t the first time he ran off, shoulda split his shit then Hate to think of what he’s did and if I catch him slippin Won’t be an ass-whippin, I can tell you that I keep it real with this cat, he go and sell two packs And run off (damn) tell me, he was locked down, up north And you out a week later? that’s bullshit! I bust off, I need this dough Fuck you think I’m here for my health? I need this wealth, because I feed myself You play with my life, when you play with my money Playin around but this’ll be the last time you think somethin’s funny
Chorus
[dmx] Yo, I’ve been casin the liquor store, for a month now With me and two other niggaz, is about to run up in there and shut it down I got four people on the inside, one stay in the back Two stock boys, one at the register but he count the stacks Aight bitch, put on the ski mask, make sure that when we ask For the dough they know that we takin all three bags Now see that? you gotta hear em shoot that nigga Matter of fact, you hit the back, I’ll put two in that nigga Hardhead motherfuckers always get it I told him what would happen if he moved the nigga moved so I did it Did you get it? I asked my man as he was comin from the back Nigga opened his mouth said nothin and fell out flat This cat come out spittin, hittin my mans, his mans Couldn’t control what was in his hands I’m hit, damn! I bust back, and got the fuck up out of there Didn’t get a dime, but at least I got up out of there
Chorus
[dmx] Aiyyo I see it, try to avoid it, but it comes That’s how it’s goin in the slums over crumbs Somethin little becomes somethin major Niggaz gettin blown up like a pager Ear to ear with the razor, pour out my soul Took control of hurt, why must earl simmons, swim in dirt? I’m gon’ make it work, twenty-eight and tryin to get, baptized Priest cannot touch me cause he said I gave him bad vibes Ryde, when I die, straight down, but I’m plottin We all gots to go but who wants to be forgotten? I’ma leave a mark, and it won’t be the mark of the devil Throw dirt and may your hands burn when you touch the shovel The level of animosity is stoppin me from thrivin Fuck what them niggaz is talkin about, I’m survivin Alive and goin through it, but I made my bed So now it’s in these flames that i, lay my head