Lyrics:
one since birth.
"New York is number one today in the house!"
[El P]
I'll do the simple shit; strike harder than Hoffa.
El the maladjusted, MC
[Intro]
Hey yo dogs for real?
I'm yo' man but you got the address up
'cause now you got chicks talk' "What the fuck"
"What
black cops in cars profilin
Hardcore kids in the West got stress
In the East we are chased by the same black beast
The black cop is the only real
“Blaaatts”
Or walk wit' a new bop, we got some new pots
I see some 40 bigs, I blew off homie wig
And run up in his house and kidnap his only kid
as Stonehenge
Pledged whoever crossed his path get scrapped with a sledge
Hammer, he didn't give a damn about the manor
And on the block he was called by
I got a new whip
And that girl wanna fuck me think I'm clueless
I might fuck her once and give her two kids
I just keep on grinding I need blue
Watch how you talk
Ooh Yeah
Watch how you walk
Ooh yeah
Get off my block
Block yeah
Look at my socks
Socks bitch
Watch how you talk
Ooh Yeah
Watch
Intro:
Yeah
Shorty wanna ride wit me yaya, aw
Yaya, aw
Shorty wanna ride wit me yaya, aw
Yaya
Hook:
Shorty come kick it wit a real one right now
[Intro]
[Thurgood of PJ's]
Yeah, get up, get down
That's what P Funk say
[Snoop]
Get your money man, it's hard out there
It's hard out there,
a Convertible!*
*(Garage) I got it all both old and new*
*Yeeeeh….Yeah*
*Dey say we always aiming for Stars*
*To my all young’s niggaz in D Block,*
*What CAR are u
[Intro: Jim Jones]
Uh-huh, Jones, one-two, one-two
G's up, you know who I am, Jones, the struggle
New York's mine
[Jim Jones:]
Can it be it was all
Intro:
G'yeah how we gon' get on this one? (Westside)
Uh my homey Bird in the house (N O T are in the house)
I said da foes in the house
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
Treating the block like it taught me a new religion
Im screaming death to the competition
When will they bring us up in there discussions
when they do it
saw me
I ain't shootin at kids bitch I'm hittin
My target
Plug threw pounds onna block and I told him lob it
Whippin up glass inna kitchen shit lookin
Intro
its not its not me exactly
who touches people
its what i represent
the possibility that dreams from long ago
may still come true even if
when lights on the street
Coke bottles, sticks, rocks man and fights in the street
Just A kid playing with matches sneaking in buildings for fun
New kid
powder
People hanging in spots
They waited until the blocks got hot
And got raided by the cops
I'll explain the man sleeping in the rain
His whole
Bizzy Bone-Intro-
It's another Studio Rat Production. Lets' do this baby. Please believe it. Another Studio Rat Production. 7th Sign. You know how it
-PRODUCED BY ANG'GEON EMETREA
Bike horn blares
[ INTRO: Ang'Geon Emetrea ]
Holler at your boys causing static from the attic
Automatic
Oii, Let me
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
deckin', rubber neckin' in my tomb
Check it out yo, I smile like Groucho Marx
I make a joke, hokey pokey, and slide by like egg yolk
Play me like a punk like
salon
So her beauty is strong rockin like Louis Vuitton
Cause these dudes never wanna see the new kid signed (No)
They always wanna shine like the sun
[intro: twiz (ghostface killah)]
Generals on deck, what's up, son?
(yeah, yeah, yeah... come on!)
Salut this (library shit)
(rock the belt, uh-huh,
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