Lights Out (Chris Lytle on UFC 89) Lyrics

It goes one for the money, homie, two for the show
We tore the roof off this mutha, now it's time to blow
Like we don't need no water, don't bother, we let it burn
We keep the fire just a little bit hotter, that way you'll learnRespect I earn! Started with the clique that I hang
Respect I earn! Ever since I got in this game
Respect I earn! Never wanted fortune or fame
I'd rather have these South D'ego Streets knowing my nameChiggy Check - Microphone check
Chiggy Check - Microphone checkLights out! Game over!
If you wanna you can check my stats
Lights out! Game over!
Make way cause the kings is backWe bang boogie through your system subliminal
We lyrical murdering like we criminals
Life or Death medical decision
We so dope out the lab that you'll need a prescription
The hood is listening so for you that I wrote thisKeep it underground! Sticking to the streets like the homeless
With the dopeness, recognize the real P.O.D.
Cause we triple O, O triple, triple O.G.Lights out! Game over!
If you wanna you can check my stats

Lights out! Game over!
Make way cause the kings is back
Lights out! Game over!
If you really think you got it like that
Lights out! Game over!
Word on the streets is the boys is backLights out! Game over!
Make way cause the kings is back
Lights out! Game over!
If you really think you got it like that
Lights out! Game over!
Word on the streets is the boys is back
Lights out! Game over!
Worldwide only paying respects
Lights out! Microphone check
Lights out! Microphone check
Make way cause the kings is back
Lights out!
Songwriters
HILL, JUANITA/WASHINGTON, DINAH /Published by
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.