Lyrics:
I come from Bed-Stuy
Where niggas either do or they gon' die
Gotta keep the ratchet close by
Someone murdered, nobody seen, nobody heard it
Just
they shinin' (yeah)
Got new chains from Eliantte, come inside (yeah)
Every time I pull up on her
She suckin' my dick like this shit was a prize (yeah)
with the flu, hail from the "L"
Tell freaky tales of females in Black Tail
Black male, these the sounds of blackmail
And extortion, need a piece
I pounce like that
1 2 cross
Yeah bounce like that
We don't take no L's
We just bounce right back like
Got a brand new bitch
Hit it from the back give
the livest ones
New York, L.A., Atlanta, V.A., Miami, D.C., tell me!
Bon Jour, baby here go my brochure
Give me a phone call, I'll show you
or the message I'm still delivered
Holy mission really doing the Lord's work
On my way to L.A. touchdown in New York
News report never gave the full story though
and im so high-from this space trees/
and it takes me-to a new place-where the love grows and the hate breeds/
where the wind blows-and the waves crash-and
momma I keep all the receipts
Fooled by the banks, drafted in the ranks
Can't catch a break, I'm Saving Mr. Banks
To raving reviews, I'll be on the news
I come from Bed-Stuy
Where niggas either do or they gon' die
Gotta keep the ratchet close by
Someone murdered, nobody seen, nobody heard it
Just
Hey baby you forgot your Ray Bans
And my sheets still orange from your spray tan
It was more than soft porn for the K-man
She remember my Sprinter,
live in, is beautiful Brooklyn
Long as I live here believe I'm on fire hey
'cause it's the be-the-are-the-O-the-O-K
L-why-N is the place where I stay
just about to toss a live grenade
In your driveway (what?) and drive away
Are you afraid of a blade made of a razor with AIDS
Blood drippin' from it,
just about to toss a live grenade
In your driveway (what?) and drive away
Are you afraid of a blade made of a razor with AIDS
Blood drippin' from it,
J to a are-you-l-e
Niggas can't be seriously fuckin' wit me.
What you holla 'bout
We can hit up an alley and air out
Bullets exit the barrel,
Im not finished
Niggas think they high as him
No these niggas not ceiling
Heard your new shit man
Nigga I am not feeling
Bitch this is Harlan drive
to bed
Woke up cold
In the night
From a voice
In her head
Who are you
I guess it's what we do
To be new
What a scheme
I guess that's what she
Check it out, I'm the C-A-S-A, the N-O-V-A,
And the rest is F-L-Y,
You see I go by the code of the doctor of the mix,
And these reasons I'll tell you
am protected by his promise
I am much more than a conqueror
I am focused and persistent
I embrace challenges and learn from them
I surround myself with
in my pocket and at least a grand
Gold on my knuckle, my pistol's closed in hand
I'm a Dogg Pound Gangsta from the LBC
Remotely controlled by
I should grab a hundred content
Creators from near and far
Put 'em on a track
Call it a "Rap Battle Royale" in fact
I'm actually going to go and do
on a beach in L.A. fuckin' fly misses
While you niggas at the crib tryna' find misses
Yo I'm gettin' head from the Mexican dime bitches
Them niggas mad
the way from New York City down to your motherfucking set
KRS-One, you know how we do, son
Coming through on that break dance, one (one)
Two (two),
in cheer
Free by the blood of the lamb
We by the blood are the champs
Never take an L to the trolls on the gram
Only take a knee for the goats
dying and we all just tryna move
From Seattle to Soweto
All African ghettos
L.A., Palestine, and the body, soul, mind
Vieques, Chiapas, they just can't
.jpg/194px-High_Noon_(1952_poster).jpg "High Noon")
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