Hell on Earth (Front Lines)

Mobb Deep

2 fans

Mobb Deep

Mobb Deep is an American Hip hop duo from Queensbridge, Queens, New York, U.S., that consisted of Havoc and Prodigy. The duo is "one of the most critically acclaimed hardcore East Coast Hip-Hop groups". The group is best known for its dark, hardcore delivery as exemplified by the single "Shook Ones Pt. II". Mobb Deep have become one of the most successful rap duos in Hip Hop having sold over three million records. The majority of their albums have been critically acclaimed, in particular The Infamous, which is considered to be classic among avid Hip-Hop listeners and general fans. They are partially credited for the resurgence of East Coast rap in the early to mid-'90s. Havoc and Prodigy were also judges for the 7th Annual Independent Music Awards to support … more »


Year:
1996
4:34
131 
#1

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Yo the saga begins beget war 
I draw first blood be the first to set it off 
My cause tap all jaws lay down laws 
We takin what's yours we do jerks rush the doors 
Here come the deez tryin to make breeze and guns toss 
In full force  my team'll go at your main source 
We're not tourists hit bosses and take hostage 

Your whole setup  from the ground up we lock shit 
Blood flood your eye, f*ck up your optics 
Switch to killer instincts for niggaz pop shit 
Yo nigga Noyd what's the topic? Nine pound we rocked in 
Ninety-six strike back with more hot shit 
Illuminate my team'll glow like, radiation 
With no time for patient, or complication 

Let's get it done right, my click airtight 
Trapped in a never ending gunfight so niggaz lose stripes 
Or lose life, jail niggaz sendin kites to the street 
Over some beef that wasn't fully cooked, finish em off 
Well done meat, that said twenty-two slug to your head 
Travel all the way down to your leg 

[Chorus] 
Ayo it's hell on earth, whose next or gonna be first 
The projects is front lines, and the enemy is one time 
I ain't gotta tell you 
It's right in front of your eyes 
We wreck the QBC, nigga rep yours it's all love 

Milli stacked down, heavenly guarded by hollow tip slug 
Then crack down, on wannabe thugs adapt to gat sound 
And bow down, slow the f*ck up, see how my foul now 
Articulate, hittin body parts to start shiftin shit 
Never hesitant, it's the crack game unlimited 
Summon rasta we can do this, forever infinite 
Then reminesce, twenty years later how we was gettin it 
Either with me go against the grain you better hit me 

Leggin me or robbin me niggaz better body me 
'Cause it's a small world and niggaz, talkin like bitches 
Bitches singin like snitches, pointin you out in pictures 
'Cause she rep the QBC faithfully, playa hatin me 
All that bullshit, is just makin me 
More the better, then concentrate on gettin chedda 
If shorty set you up you better dead her, I told you 
Shape and mold you, sun you, then I hold you 

Like a pimp mind control you double edge blow you 
It'll be I, like I'm supposed to, the click is coastal 
International to local, Bacardi mix physically fix 
Hit you with shit, that'll leave a loose nigga stiff 
Probably thick, Son I solved em 
Pulled him in my world then evolved him to chaos 
Walk the beat like, around the way cops the average pitstop 
QBCity GodFather Part III, Gotti Gambino 
And Ty Nitty, Scarface rest in peace 

[Chorus]

Yo, the heavy metal king hold big shit, with spare clips 
You seein clips when the mac spit your top got split 
Layin dead with open eyes close his eyelids 
Turn off his lights switch to darkness, cause deep in the abyss 
Is street life, blood on my kicks, shit on my knife 
Youse the wild child, kid cold turnin men into mice 
I was born to take power leave my mark on this planet 
The Phantom of Crime Rap, niggaz is left stranded 
Shut down your operation, closed for business 

Leave a foul taste in your mouth, like Guinness 
POW niggaz is found MIA 
We move like the special forces, green beret 
Heavily around my throat, I don't play 
Shit brand new, back in eighty-nine, the same way 
The God P walk with a limp see, but simply 
To simplify shit, no man can go against me 
Test me you must be bent G, don't tempt me 
I had this full clip for so long, it needs to empty 

The reason why it full for so long, cause I don't waste shit 
You probably hid, blood in your mouth, so you could taste it 
Quiet as kept, I lay back and watch the world spin 
I hear thugs, claimin that they gonna rob the Mobb 
When they see us, I tell you what black, here's the issue 
It's a package deal, you rob me, you take this message 
Along with that, I ain't your average cat 
F*ck rap, I'm tryin to make cream and that's that 
Whatever it takes however it gots to go down 

Four mikes on stage a motherfuckin four pound 
Speakers leakin out sound and niggaz leakin on the ground 
I could truly care less the God will get his 
Regardless blow for blow let's find out who wear hardest 
This rap artist used to be a stickup artist 
Sometimes I test myself see if I still got it 
A live nigga stay on point never diss 
Regard shit or forget the essence, from which I emerged 
P is sick, so save that bullshit for the burbs 
Live up to my word, if I got beef, niggaz comin in herds 
We flush through your click get purged

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Written by: ALBERT JOHNSON, AUGUST MOON, KEJUAN WALIEK MUCHITA, TYRONE L. THOMAS

Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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