Hey wait a minute man, what about me?
Hey wait, y'all got the swat?
Yo, we'll ruin my fucking car!
You got the swat in my active car!
I know what kind of act it was
And that no-pouch junkie, bust into my room and stole my TV!
It wasn't me, man!
Why ain't you out here arresting him, instead of running me down? Huh?
It wasn't me, I confess, I confess
I can't think of a reasonable working person, can't even walk
Out on the street five minutes without something happening!
All you cops don't do nothing!
Junkies and police, one right behind the other with his hands out!
Oh baby, he's gonna get rid of both of your kind!
Aiyo, we always gon' hit hands left and right
We always gon' get them skets to fight
We always smoke and drink to set shit right
Yo, it's always gon' be left, yo, we left for life
We always gon' be thug niggas and see drug niggas
Always gon' be stuck on the block, fucking with cops
Always gon' get with Gert, lift the skirt
Turn around and let the click just work
We always gon' be chasing cash, racing fast
Like we don't need life, yo, it's always gon' be street life
We always gon' bank the dough, spank the ho, drank the Mo
You better act like you think you know
It's always gon' be Queens and Wau
Always gon' be scenes where men die
We always gon' be doing time for doing crime
It's always gon' be a Riker's Island
We always gon' be life is wildin'
We always gon' be carved out, mauled out
With a bitch getting dogged out
And the click getting stormed out
Love between thugs and slugs between drugs
Is always gon' be like the giddy is always home to me
We always gon' shake the dice, they laced in ice
Talk the jewlers down and we hate the price
Always gon' keep it funky, it's always gon' be grundy
We always gon' eat 'cause we always gon' be hungry
We always gon' grab the dick, try to bag a chick
And walk around with a grill like we mad as shit
We always gon' be in project hallways
Crowding up the doorways, drowning up the Jordans
We always gon' be naughty, Liberty, Baisley, 40
Niggas be crazy, woadie, always
We always gon' hit hands left and right
We always gon' get them skets to fight
We always smoke and drink to set shit right
Yo, it's always gon' be left, yo, we left for life
Warning, East New York niggas forming
Beats say bang your head, stick the sledge
War dance with the wild Apache Indian
Guitar, machine gun, fast car, big engine
Few squaws for the back massage, head jobs
Then it's back to business, murder one, leave no witness
Snatch mic, bash face and fight
Red light, scope at night
Moving through the snow dressed in white
It's the ninja from the rooftop site
Aim for the brain, snipe from the building across the boulevard
Hit 'em from a hundred yards
I just got a kite from Preme behind bars
Peace God, beat niggas up I suppose
Sixteen metal machine I still hold
Shoot the stuff, earlobe
Fortified rich with twelve jewels of Islam
Walk humble and calm
Newspaper under the arm, concealed arm
Yeah, you want it rough, that hellfire stuff
Poisonous mics, yo, make the party jump
Delicious, the funk, make your heart pump
Told ya, soldiers get over the hump
Your arms are too short, boy, you don't wanna rump
With U-God the Grump, van black truck
Hop heavy on the gram, every man back up
Niggas act up, let the style spin
This is Knockout King, two thousand again
Let the style in for a few proud men
Clifton project, rugged Green Shaolin
We always gon' hit hands left and right
We always gon' get them skets to fight
We always smoke and drink to set shit right
Yo, it's always gon' be left, yo, we left for life
Is it the hate that make me sip the Hennessy straight
Then go and see my enemy face, simply erase
Make me hop out the Benz with the Tennessee plates
Make me run up in your house, shouting, "Empty the safe"
Or could it be love, make me rock the hoodie and gloves
Wonder if Snoop was a Crip, would he be Blood?
Or maybe it's where I'm from, Bushwick
That got me wearing my gun everywhere that I come
Why your chick got my pubic hair on her tongue
If you wanna see the light, nigga, stare at the sun
Can it be my older days that gave me my colder ways
Blowing strays at your roller blades
Whatever it be that made me take your leather and flee
Evidently, living legal never was me
Yo, we living it, loving every minute, won't quit it
Hollow points aimed with your first name printed
In it for the money, never did it for love
Made a few enemies, couldn't limit the slugs
Never talk much, got ways of handling such
The enforcer, cause the police to rush
On the daily, rarely seen, often heard
You could spot me in the Hill, laying off of the curb
On the verge of snatching up your crown and throne
While I walk through the heart of the hell and call it home
South borough, commando style thorough
Wild like a convict loose on a furlough
Oh baby, he's gonna get rid of both of your kind!
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