Lyrics:
Labrinth, come in
Ladies and Gentlemen, gathered before you are
Five of the finest word-smiths known to mankind
What you are about to witness is
No justice, no peace
And if there ain't gon' be no justice, there ain't gon' be no peace
Young people are enraged, and there's an easy way to stop
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
CHORUS
Watch how you move. These niggas tend to be slippery, but I ain't trippin. A nigga got hella artillery. My team crazy
We out here co-opting
Many people look through their wallet or their pocket books and, way down at the bottom, past the credit cards and baby pictures and so on, you
selling by the 3.5
She had to surround herself with people she hates
But does it matter
At least they'll have her
It's bread that matters
These 3.5s won't
a place we like to drive
Way out in the country
And five miles out of the city limit we're singing
And your hand's upon my knee
So we're okay, we're fine
can
Get down to business
I think it's time I paid a little visit
To my run down neighborhood cemetery
To tally up the people I buried
57, 58, 59,
just plead it
These fuckers pathetic and copacetic
Never thought I'd grow up to be a fuckin' rap star
Little Bobby at Mastro's eatin' caviar, true
just shut the fuck up and pass me a donut
Yeah, what's happening?
Hey what's up Dre?
Ayo Doc, what's happenin' man, you hook that shit up with 5-0?
I
the music
So I can
Get down to businees
I think it's time I paid a little visit
To my run down neighbourhood cemetry
To tally up the people I buried
when you surrounded by demons (Lord)
I watched so many people leave, I see them change by the season, that's mama's seasonin'
God got you, the devil's
Uh huh, Uh huh, five, five, one... it's real shit nigga
You niggas say somethin' slick, you'll get slapped for that
You niggas schemin' on some
on the run and he's got a gun
Stay out his way unless you want some
See, he's gettin' older, a bit more bolder
Got his name written up in the 5-0 folder
A big
that's my girlfriend
Yep that's my girlfriend
Yep that's my girlfriend
I'm saying man, that's my little mama
Know what I'm talking 'bout?
I fly g5
there can be
Why live in danger? Why live with pain?
People on the surface find it hard to explain
And every little thing is strictly monitored
We're
benediction, I'm giving her that good word
Get her juices going ‘til she's slippery like Squidward
Attentive lover, glad you're fuckin’ with a big nerd
People
by
Damn, burning buildings, flamed up,
they couldn't take da heat so they jumped.
Man, they want to want to transform the streets we grew up
little one, run
Before you get captured by a satanist's gun
Locked in a chamber doesn't sound too fun
This that 90's gutta music verse 1 then done
1, 2, 3,
foil on t.v. antennas
Little TV sit on top the big TV eatin' TV dinners
Girls die they hair with kool-aid
They gave us lemons we made lemonade
But
my head
I remember doing the math like "Yeah, I'm good at little league"
A pre-conceived idea of what it all meant
For those that like the same sex
judgement
Tried by jury of my peers but where the judge went?
What will my legacy be?
Who will my enemy be?
In due time as I write this rhyme
I don't
with precision
Nigga, your hoe chose Hov', that's rapid division
Now divide yourself and slide
I, young Vito, voice of the young people
Mouthpiece
Yeah, I'm talking big business, here go the statistics
One out every five people trapping turn snitches
Get up out the game, put it up for a rainy
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