Spice 1 - Faces of Death Lyrics
Ay bwoy, ay, this is... this is...187, the 187, the (chill man) 187The 187, the 187, the 187 (187)The 187, the 187, the bloaw! (jump up in the house man, chill man)187, the 187, (faces of death man) the 187The 187, the 187, the 187 (what you know about faces of death man? )The 187, the bloaw!(*the 187 repeats in background then jamaican singing*)(spice 1)(born to kill), reign shit goes on right here, reign shit playerChill man, chill, walk about, walk about the (casket)Serious mother*****er balls, spit my dime, ***** the sidewalk manJames bridge just blowin down mother*****in train man(casket), real type shit man, huh, huh, yeah man (silence of a dead man body...)Watch them die over the drug and the white ***** man, the white banditWatch them die over the cocaine (*choke*) faces of death manIn the ghetto, projects what ever you want to call itWe all the same man, we all in the same shit (s-p-i-c-e) word-aWe say the 187, the 187 (jealousy got me strapped) callin the murderThe 187, the 187 is in the fire (nigga)(spice 1)(east bay gangsta) east bay gangsta man, kill a ratKick that gangsta shit man word up (crazy)Mother*****in killer, in this...Me say the 187, the 187, the 187The 187, the 187, the 187The 187, the 187, the 187The 187, the 187, the 187, the bloaw!(spice 1)Murder from the mind of a sick niggaThinkin bodies, dirty money, bloody cocaine and tech clipsI play with pistol grips, dead niggas and lolly tipsSuicidal sick shit, a psychopathic lunaticCaught up in murder man, dirty up in this dead foolFaces of death, hog my dreams out of drains foolsPullin pistols, tellin niggas to get the ***** backI'm regulatin shit, there's money up on my dope trackSee I'm a soldier in this game, ain't nothin strangeGot a nigga lyin on the floor with half of his *****in brainsMurder and crazy it's just a part of the gameNiggas won't kill ya, just don't ***** with their caineMack 10 silencer all ya heard was screams (ahhhhhh!!!)All I seen was the gleams from the infra-red beamsAnother mother*****in walk-by in your hoodBetter pack two clips up on your hips and it's all goodThat nigga death, he got more faces than a mother*****erSo don't be shocked if you're *****, bleedin in your gutter, niggasAy bwoy, ay this is... in this mother...Faces of death is an way gone past***** up all of your hoes, all up in your bed, in your bedFaces of death is an way gone...***** all of your hoes, all in your bed, this is... in your bed, in this...Faces of death away, ***** up all your hoes all in your bed, in your bedFaces of death is an way gone... (all right)***** up all your hoes in your bed (twilight zone to 1999 yet, spice 1)Don't you ever... in your bedEast bay gangsta, gangsta hoe, ooh (well all right, can you hang? )Can you mother*****ers hang, I mean slang them thangs as they go?Well, all right, hoe, hoe, hoe, well I'm wrongSay no, sing a sad song ohh, cause a,Cause a hoe's are gon' lay on, we all gon' hash one dayWell all right on, uh sayer, sprayer, east bay, well on willieMother pimp in the game, 187 faculty thang hey, well all rightUh, bosko whassup nigga, where that chicken at?Where that chicken at nigga, whassup spice?Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah...
