Lyrics:
run up in ya resident
Say hello to the baddest bitch ya ever met
Buck, buck, buck, buck, buck, buck
Sawed-off followed by the Mossberg Pump
When I
Ahhh, the kid's bout stackin the ends
[Run]
Yo, Rev. Run, run the block, swerve the Dat'
Flow is hot, don't need no gun to cock
I'm sick of Vidal,
Right About Now Lyrics
Yeah
Its that new Kweli,
I'm gonna give it to you before the bootleggers get hold of it
I figured I'd put it out first
on a world tour to help free the poor
From the local drug cats to kids in front of the store
Number runners, gangbangers and the big money spenders
you walk with a shotgun
I got new for you, your days are numbered, son
Why don't you get yourself a job?
When your kid grows up, do you want him to rob?
make my raps bigger than life
But not knowing how to market it right
Turned on the radio
Only cat new from the West
Coast was playin' was Bishop
And by
One tour of duty on a foreign shore.
Fightin' for his way home.
Yeah. fightin' for his way home.
Returnin' home to his native land,
Left New York
Have you ever felt this amazing, yuh
Rosemob stacking dead faces, yuh
Undead stumble on the A V E
Running off the block, L A P D
Got a glow going off
new
Niggas want me dead, for a bag and a
Price on my head, got a price on my head (price on my head)
Night when I rest, with a knife by my bed
I had to do it (YEAH)
its what the streets want
D-Block
mothafucka
the hood series
remix
blow it up, kiss of death
when it drop, they gon cop like
I don't care what you new shit did, I'm a God
You been on my dick since you was a kid
And I ain't never fall off, I got greater
Took it
a dog on heat, pussy nigga take a seat
I'm bout to take a leap
New kid on the block, block hot
See ops, fuck 12, fuck a cop
See red flags, I don't stop
new york
To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?
Remember me? you punk fagot crab emcee
Get your shit broke in half for fucking
says your dead by manana
Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot
Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block
exit the old style, enter's the new
But nothing's new 'bout being hawked by a crew
Or should I say flock cause around every block
There's Harry, Dick,
hip-hop was good
There lived a little boy who was misled
By a little Sha-tan and this is what he said
"Me and you kid we gonna make some cash
Jacking
The day goes by how ever the pay goes
Same rules apply new york to vala hoe
Section 8 kid's smellin' like
Weed and roach pape'
Dude throat right in
my nine
Chorus [Different Variations]
[Verse]
Can't find a nigga in the hood, that say "50 ain't hot"
When I drop, I'm sound like Eminem and Kid Rock
Never fake, I never act like something that I'm not
Remember me I'm that foul mouthed kid that lived around your block
You thought that I was crazy
for the syndicate
[?] Lester on these blocks, boy, you in for it
Pushing for the King of New York, I see it
Gangsters try so hard but can't be it
Only
your thoughts progress
And drop your guard to the floor
And get caught in my net
Gotta confess this is all I possess
Until I'm called by death I'll
pass 'em the Oscar
From the new school rappers, yeah I'm the illest on the roster
Smoke like a rasta
Black and white like Bob Marley, yeah, like Bob
the way for days, I'm a new wave yeller
For decades gettin' paid, comin' straight from the cellar
The paper was my trade so I stayed in the lab
Now
the time and make out a plan
I used to hit my knees, talk to God, and beg for a chance
I used to go on tours, open up and open up again
Now you can book
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