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Aiyo aiyo, what up, yo? |
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What up, y'all? |
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This that |
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Pretty Toney shit |
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Aiyo, I know there's a lot of hoods and shit out there |
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A lot of niggas done got bodied |
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A lot of niggas done got robbed and shit |
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You know what |
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I mean? We love a lot of things in the hood |
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But time goes on and if we don't change a lot of shit |
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Shit always gonna be this way and that's a mutha****a fact |
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True gangsta shit, y'all, yo, yo, yo |
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When y'all turn my mic up in here, bareback shit |
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Know what |
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I mean? Tired of y'all mutha****as and shit |
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One two, **** around and clob on one of y'all mutha****as |
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Yo Spidey, put that reverb shit, on |
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Come on, "Can you feel it? Can you feel it?", yeah"Can you feel it?", let's go, **** it |
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Live from |
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Staten Island, where the gangstas kill |
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Only place on the map that got the 30 dollar bill |
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And we front like we got millions |
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Our specialty is how we willie, niggas |
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That's how |
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Buck brought the building |
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And the police is pussy, they protect and serve |
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They connect, with baseheads then they frisk our birds |
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Smack DVD's, blowin' herb, |
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I'm in the room |
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Bonin' these two white bitches, |
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Ice baggin' up work |
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That's how we get down, **** |
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VegasThe black |
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Carlo Gambino, rockin' the wallo's |
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Blow his diamonds in |
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Z-No's, spicey, verses is jalapeno |
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Best to leave, when |
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I'm in the big |
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Escalade, |
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I'm sittin' on |
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DinoTone Stark, a poet's art, kiss the girls |
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And bake them pies, clean up, some are old darts |
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This that real live don' shit, you heard |
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Yo, they lick forty rounds, today |
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Okay, plus the shit is mad hot around the way |
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Niggas don't give a **** on any time or day |
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Or if he dyin' today, or could he find a way |
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Blow niggas over 'turt, bitches, dimes and trays |
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Blow a nigga a jewel and watch him slide away |
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It's like that in the hood, he in the grimy say |
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But what we try'na say is gonna, "Be this way" |
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It don't have to, it don't have to, "My God" |
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With big carrots and static, with that leaves the bad habits |
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Drugs layin' in buildings with great big automatics |
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Anonimos' in the hood, it's a fact, we could do magic |
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Splatter faggots in lobbies, the heat burn off his eyelashes |
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Don't try to pass this, back up or you'll receive something |
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Real tragic, them hollows'll race through your jacket |
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Semi gangstas with weak tactics |
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Forensic scientists called in to display graphics |
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For square inch to his back winds |
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They brain is spleen, it's left all over a fiend's mattress |
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Bastard, we cock and squeeze after we leave our ratchets |
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We keep the hood cryin' for massive havoc |
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No Trix we take from silly rabbits |
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Yo feed them lead carrots |
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The little mans'll connect and they touch that fabric |
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The only thing that can stop 'em is that tephlon phat shit |
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Maybe artillery's heavy like a bunch of fat chicks |
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Brr baow! |
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Ain't no comin' back, bitch! |
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Yo, they lick forty rounds, today |
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Okay, plus the shit is mad hot around the way |
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Niggas don't give a **** on any time or day |
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Or if he dyin' today, or could he find a way |
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Blow niggas over 'turt, bitches, dimes and trays |
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Blow a nigga a jewel and watch him slide away |
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It's like that in the hood, he in the grimy say |
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But what we try'na say is gonna, "Be this way" |
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It don't have to, it don't have to, "My God" |
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Ways, be this way |
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Ways, be this way |
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Ways, be this way |
