Lyrics:
[Birdman]
What's up Chop (What's happenin wit ya baby)
nigga how you feel comin'out that project nigga
to these E-States and floatin on these million
Stack-stack that money for a lawyer
I been told that since a lil' nigga
I be totin' on a Tommy I ain't talkin' 'bout no Hilfiger
If it ain't about blue
pushed over the edge
I made this pledge
not by you, my brother or by Sister Sledge
now I know that I'm not your boss
and I'm not trying to floss or come
fell, the glass crashed, he wasn't saved by the bell
That was his ass black
So when it comes to physical combat
We can take it hand to hand or go
narrow behind back onto the street. He's not a corner boy. The bodega in the 40's is mid- block where bullets flock, no names engraved and he may be next.
Thanking this hoe called me,
and she was tripping out
say I had a baby by her,
figuring I was taking out
I'm just trying stack a meal,no what I'm saying
'Cause a thin blue line ain't nothing to a Black mob
Have your gestapo laid in the street
If you want peace, find it in the cemet'ry
If you want peace,
Got A couple niggas in they 20s Riding round with 30 round clips on they 40 cals
Shit get coo coo
What would you do
If you was in my projects
Like
blues lift yo face up
Ain't shit free, want all profit, ill smoke da shakes up
Aye get money, do music, laid back, don't say much...
From Mississippi, all
Snacks in our hands walking to Auntie San's
Red and Blue lights, flashing out front again (It's 12)
Family cuffed up, by those in command (How)
Only life
Ayo, its Beanie on the track
It's like I'm stepping into slack
It's like I'm stepping into new blue jeans that I wore
At our fucken winter concert
chances
There's life after a bid
I protect me best
Ain't asking can I live
This blue on black crime
Got the world crying
But white on black crime
Is what's
didn't go to American Idol
Lost inspiration
So I needed new information
Surrounded by temptations
My soul is in heaven and it's looking so patient
Got
a project just to test us
We hangin out just chillin like a necklace
If it's superficial know that it's fools gold
Don't fall for the carrot hanging by ya
Creep like centipedes, snatch stacks up from silly men
Cursed by the wicked gin, keep peepers blue-fenced
To my nested kin, I leave some Japanese
this is bout as hard as it gets, tha projects saturated wit drugs and dealers, and the streets consist of the guns and cold killas, It?s bad enough man
cockin me like I'm some dime piece
A g from the street so I can never turn beast
Chorus
Verse three:
There's crooked cops, that's why they get shot by
am you so you are me
And every now and then we get a little out of hand
To fuel our greed driven by our wants and needs
It seems we never act ourselves
me get my hand on the dice
All my life, nine out of ten involved in the heist
Only for ayallytes with the target sliced
Now the parasite blined by your
of blood in circumfrence to her face
And an abundance of brains all over the street
Shame how we had to meet
Dashin, buckin, greet by fuckin family
They
how
To go visit die by respect give ah
Fuck how you livin only the gang
No new niggas wit you know how
To keep it real huh gang
Gang gang gang yeen
blues
It wasn't easy to smile here
Thugs and killers
Hustled dollars and death here
And all these folks were just trying get by
And all these folks just
crime opposites attract
My electrical shine ok Polly see me downtown
2 blue cops wit Rollie Fingers
We the Razor Sharp Wu-Tang singers, hum dingers
find, no better design
I'm so justified, I'm boast of epic kind
Nose to the grind stone, wait, no never mind
I could tell you 'til I'm blue in the face
.jpg/205px-Sun_Ra_(1973_publicity_photo_-_Impulse_ABC_Dunhill).jpg "Sun Ra & The Blues Project")
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