H.N.I.C.

ProdigyProdigy 

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Prodigy

Albert Johnson (born September 18, 1974), better known by his stage name Prodigy, is an American rapper and one half of the Hip-hop duo Mobb Deep with Havoc. He is the great-great-grandson of the founder of Morehouse College. Prodigy was born with sickle-cell anemia and has suffered from the disease throughout his life. more »

Year:

2000

3:03

95 Views

Playlists:

#2

 The easy, fast & fun way to learn how to sing: 30DaySinger.com

Yo, it gets no better than this
It's the hottest shit on street
It move units like Shania Twain on a Mobb beat
The solar system stand still
Gods listen when I speak the world pay attention

It's capital P, niggaz rather hang up
Ya niggaz know my handle, talkin' like you straight thug
Dunn, I catch you while you shoppin' for kicks
Surprise bitch, shoot outs is spontaneous

And, oh from now on, call me Columbo
'Cause I come through wrinkled up, think I give a f*ck?
Look at my chain, look at my anklet
But are you listenin' to the words man? My shit bang kid

Nigga I run this shit, I set the trend, you get the dick
That's basically it, these rap niggaz think I'm talkin' 'bout them
Nigga please, you ain't in my league, jus' follow my lead

I be the H.N.I.C.
The head nigga in charge
The boss, the Captain Crunch dog, the sarge
The M.O.B.B., the status, we large
The guns, the drama, the love, the Mobb

The H.N.I.C., the head nigga in charge
The guns, the drama, the love, the Mobb
The boss, the Captain Crunch dog, the sarge
The M.O.B.B., the status, we large

I'm all over, me and my dogs enjoy this
We pop bottles, celebrate your death blow a kiss
At your wittle bitch, wish pain on your kids
Piss on your casket kick ya tombstone and shit, dog

And I ain't even that foul type a dude
But all's fair in love and war it's whatcha hand called for
Now ya mans wanna ride for your cause
But f*ck it, they could get it too, simple as you

And I be goddamned if they put they hands on me
Money brings power and puts guns in parties
Sends niggaz on Amtrak with those for your body
It pays for thirty plane tickets if we got beef, huh
Hardly, you all know what that is

I grew up in the hoods and the projects
Wit dope fiends and crack heads
Teenage killers with Mack-10s
Best friends cut each other's throat
And twist they own fan backwards

Maybe that'd live now, I'm on some rap shit
Album sold out keeps me far from the big house
The hand guns from that bigger house
'cause ain't nobody cuttin' for me to enforce to hold it down like

The H.N.I.C.
The head nigga in charge
The guns, the drama, the love, the Mobb
The boss, the Captain Crunch dog, the sarge
The MOBB, the status, we large

The H.N.I.C., the head nigga in charge
The boss, the Captain Crunch dog, the sarge
The MOBB, the status, we large
The guns, the drama, the love, the Mobb

 The easy, fast & fun way to learn how to sing: 30DaySinger.com