Lyrics:
ville '72
Lock and load on patrol, lotta hoes on the stroll
Give me street 411 like whoop-de-whoop
Where's the cane man? How many nights I live by this
to murder me (Naw hold up man don't shoot, I live over there)
Land of the beautiful (ay, ay man what you doin)
Cursed by the hate we throw (you trippin' dawg)
beneath him
If y'all don't know that, rap with a old cat
He'll show you streets where them big dealers drove at
Where low-key killers let the fo' clap
green stuff
Provided to you by sack man
Pacman how in the fuck do you think we gon' do that, man?
Ridin' round Old National on eighteens without no
green stuff
Provided to you by sack man
Pacman how in the fuck do you think we gon' do that, man?
Ridin' round Old National on eighteens without no
I'm in Hollywood came from Kingston Food
Shorties standing in the streets with tools
Where I'm from we don't play no games
Ain't no April fools, you
lay
It's hard to survive nigga or
The high where you stay
I'm important like the Pope
I'm the king of New York
I'm live from South Central
I'm a Muslim
some niggas in a big truck boy
Run flat boy, run that boy
Bitch where I'm a send you you can't come back boy
I bring flames to a four alarm fire
I
live past twenty
Where I come from some get half as many
Ask anybody why we livin' fast and we laugh, reach for a flask
We have to make this moment
son of a king,
Instead I was born son of a, killa, surrounded by dealaz an fiends,
Dear God I got some questions, that maybe you can answer,
Why my
brutal,they should check their P.D.
You made me,now your kids rave me
I rap about the life that the city streets gave me
Murder,intrigue,somebody must bleed
son of a king,
Instead I was born son of a, killa, surrounded by dealaz an fiends,
Dear God I got some questions, that maybe you can answer,
Why my
The love for the art now dipped into dough
We lost real flows to mumbles and memes
We've seem to lost the ideas that
We were kings and queens
Where are
my radio
Farmers Boulevard
Yeah, you know that's where me and E hang out
Cool out, you know what I'm sayin'?
That's where the crib's at
the main stream
I let you stay in my crib, now you know where I live
When you was hungry, fed you a hot meal, look at the hand you deal
Me crud ball
Go ahead and talk about him because he makes you doubt,
Because he has denied himself the things that you can't live without.
Laugh at him behind
to hold us
Well, this is my explanation
Straight from Ethiopia
N-E-G-U-S definition: royalty king
Royalty, Oprah, listen
N-E-G-U-S description: black
get you viewed by a coroner, coward
This is my corner
Come on, peace to my corner
Where niggas'll leave ya head and switch names on ya
And we
I got that Boom Bi BI, so nobody disrespect, Jah love
Give me strength and power flow through my dreads (nuff said)
You all walk with kings, talk
Ha, yeah
It go, gangsta, gangsta, thug, killa
I'm the black panther that shot the drug dealer (uh-huh)
I live on the block where dudes bust they
Ha, yeah
It go, gangsta, gangsta, thug, killa
I'm the black panther that shot the drug dealer (uh-huh)
I live on the block where dudes bust they
life into the blink of an eye (eye)
And if you see your cloning on a street walking by (by)
Keep on running for your life 'cause only one will survive
the leader of the show, keepin' you on the go
But I know I can't live without my radio
Farmers Boulevard, yeah, you know that's where me and E hang out,
Where have all the storytellers gone?
Just when did I become so eaten up by moss and covered in a cloak of popularity?
And then I lose my voice in
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