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Chorus: repeat 2X |
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Yo, you gotta go, you gotta go, you gotta go |
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(G: And aiyyo, what you don't know, believe the ghetto knows) |
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[Kool G. Rap] |
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New York, New York, the city that never sleeps |
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Bodies, covered in white sheets, are layin in the streets |
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Shit gets deep, as we creep up the block by the kids slangin rocks |
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and holdin glocks stolen from the cops to get props |
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You gotta split a top, on the regular |
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or get plugged in your mug, from a slug, by your competitor |
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Gunshots echo throughout the city like thunder, no wonder |
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Another brother six feet under |
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You know it ain't no jokin when the streetlights are broken |
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So keep your eyes open, or get ready for a, smokin 'loc |
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Step out of line, I hope you got your nine gun son |
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The Smith and Wess', you better press 9-1-1 (word up) |
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or make a run for it there's too many to tackle |
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The Big Apple'll put your ass on ice like a Snapple |
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So even though I rap I gots to stay strapped |
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Niggaz act up I back up (PI-YAH) |
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I bust a cap inside your ****in hat |
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Don't even pose with them hoes, the swinger that you chose |
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just might be down with the foes, only the shadow knows |
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And ain't no lollipop, lollipop over here only the shottie pops |
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(BOOM) Now just sit back and watch the bodies drop |
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The younger gunmen got the bigger niggaz runnin |
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The shorties (what) the shorties (what) the shorties are comin |
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to push a nigga wig back, and leave his ass flat on his back |
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The mother****in ghetto knows, and it's like that |
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Chorus |
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[Kool G. Rap] |
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Today's headlines, another nigga dead |
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Six to the body and fo' to the head |
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Followed the red bitch in the bed full of lead |
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A drug-related case and now the place is filled with Feds |
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Ramshacked the shack, disclouse 'bout two kilos of dope |
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Two ounces of coke's caught in the pocket of his coat |
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So, another brother caught the ultimate surprise |
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with blown out brains, to drop stains on his eyes |
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Dazed as I sit back and watch the channel two news |
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Watchin his family goin through all the boo-hoos |
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You lose, like an Ill Street, the Blues are gettin deeper |
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Nothin left in the room except for him, the Grim Reaper |
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Police are takin ? snapshots, scoop up some blooddrops |
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Pull out a file on a juvenile child of mugshots |
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The cops knew he fell victim to laws on the street |
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So they just, pull out the white sheets, to cover up the dead meat |
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Seal off the area with yellow tape, draw the white |
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chalk around the body now the party has to motivate |
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One more outlaw, was murdered on the scene for the green |
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Died at the age of seventeen |
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Chorus |
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[Kool G. Rap] |
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Strollin the concrete, packin my heat, walkin the backstreets |
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I seen niggaz pull up, peepin me out the side a black Jeep |
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Six feet deep, that's where I'm goin if I'm slippin |
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Steady cockin my shit cause I already got the clip in |
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Now who's the first nigga to run up, here they come up |
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the block hardrocks with glocks rollin holdin they guns up |
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I buck, I buck, and then I struck one in the chest |
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Nigga shoulda wore a vest but now his ass is put to rest |
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But now I got three mo' niggaz, pullin triggers |
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Strays are ricochetin off the bricks, zigga zigga |
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But who got the biggest strap? Who's bustin bigger caps? |
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My BOOM BOOM BOOMS against they PAP PAP PAPS |
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No haps, G. Rap ain't goin out like a sucker |
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I reloaded the shot and dropped another mother****er |
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Quick, I duck and shit to dodge the bullets comin at me |
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Cause I won't be too happy with a slug inside my nappy |
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Two more niggaz left, they scared to death, but I'm leary |
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Shit gets kinda scary when I got bulletholes near me |
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I went between two cars, lettin off the quarter pound |
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I see another body fallin down to the ground |
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Quick I run up on him cause I don't think that he's dead |
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Standin over his ass I put two more inside his head |
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That's three niggaz down, only got one nigga to go |
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I gots to send his ass to the gravedigger so |
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I lay low in the cut and wait for moneygrip to slip up |
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Nearly shot my whole clip up, I got one more slug to rip up |
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Look over by the GS, see his ass stickin his head out |
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Boom, let the lead out, blew a piece of his brain dead out |
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the back of his head, now he's dead, because he fell face down |
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right on the mother****in streets that he dwelled |
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Chorus 2.5X |