Lyrics:
and gritty
Record and mic checkin, no question, this section of
New york city
Where the crooks lounge out, block powers found
Butterfly ground the sky favorite
a new sherriff in town
And it ain't Reggie Hammond 2Pac:
Now shit's constantly hot, on my block
It never fails to be gunshots
Can't explain a mother's
wassup, yerrrr
With the squad, on the block, at the spot, yerrrr
[Verse 1]
None of these rappers saying shit
Who dafuq is this Asian kid
I'm on my Super
the greatest hits of Donnie Hathaway
Got interrupted by a drive-by shooting half a block away
Fahim was in the window, he didn't get hit though
All please due
chose
Still I'm livin' it by street codes
Pain and poverty put these flows in Beast Mode
Here we go
The road to my success from here was not a block
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
payin them dues, nuttin to lose
Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels
Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues
_hardcore_!
of ill shit on my block, happen nightly
East New York is no joke kid
And peace to my man Hass doin his bad
I went to Flatbush to buy incense and weed
embarrass my moms by carryin' on
Internet and DVD's, babblin' on
I been a threat
You see the G on Fabolous song
I send 'em death repeatedly
When rappin' this
president, and the focal point when I'm campaigning
Is to put FEMA to work on a plantation at Camp David
Demand payment for New Orleans with the best
showing niggas her rings
I said bitch, I ain't impressed with that
Why the fuck is every briefcase short by at least ten stacks
We had a mil' in each
Old school, new school, need to learn though
I burn baby burn like disco inferno
Old school, new school, need to learn though
I burn baby burn like
[Chorus 4X: Thin C (Felecia)]
What the hell is goin onnnnn?
(These are our blocks, these are our hoods, these are our streets)
[Layzie Bone]
It's
kept arms
Thirty eight longs inside my mom's Buick
At any given moment Shawn could lose it, be on the news
Iron cuffs, arms through it; or stuffed
pies, ten cars, five drives, ten bars, fi-fi
That's fifty-five thou, sha-na-na, bye bye
My fittings touched tailored, joined by Chuck Taylors
gotta be the same cats
I can tell by they strange acts
When they mumble to each other
Like Milan they run for cover
New 'cause this bitch that I
Yo, (ok) kids I was sittin on the block the other day man
Some fine ass girl walked by
And she was lookin, I'm lookin back
She said uh "JD I love
get god
You know the Kid Capri shit everybody is on
The N.O.R. hit the mic just like I perform, I be hyped up
New Balance kicks and hyped up
Why you
Block stay hot cuz I'm fucking with the algorithm
Real as rain bad as Cain how much are you gonna give em?
Sit around kids and listen to a fable
Make
the block up like Rob Lowe
Bodega liquor store, I'm dead in the window
PPP symbol got FBI on lookout
Strip the dirty clothes, hit a 118 cookout
I woof
weed Sunday block party has the block Gnarly the hood gangsta just Finessed big homie glock forty Lookin at my friends
Brand new fits and brand new
rag in my pocket match the blood in the curb
Hear the shots in the hood but can they feel it in the 'burbs?
Turn on the news, get seduced by the words
locked
Everybody doing them
I'm still stretching on the block
Like "Damn, I'ma be a failure"
Surrounded by thugs, drugs
And drug paraphernalia cops, courts
She bring it through every occasion
Don't gotta tell the girl shit
Go out and get it, they do it by nature
If she see one outside
Then she gon'
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