Lyrics:
typical neighbourhood store,
And what happens to the kids convicted of graffiti offences
Chorus: Crime scene colon these cold streets you patrol on
Trying
on
Betty Boop
Call that a Maryland pie
Murderland, Double A
A place for the shooter
You know they feel pride
Yo no sé, they ask what I know
But the zaza,
the Hebrew
I’ve had 1, 2, call it three brews
With these words, this Jew’ll hit you
Lyrically this kid practicing jiu-jit'su
Creativity off the hook like
a chair
It's how it goes, yeah
The whole world's in front of you
So tell me what you gonna do, yeah
The situation nothing new
What are you afraid of
What
do it now, uh
Do what you love, do what you love
Do what you love, do what you love
Come now, do it now
cy yo, I do what I love, I do what I want
cnd
it
Know that's what you don't want
But yet you still running to it
Still ain't remove it
The mirror the mirror the mirror talking
To you
Don't fear
There's nobody else on my level I'm all by myself and I call it a silent hill
As evil as us deep inside of my mind and I'm ready to cock back and then
did sport mode on my phone
I ain't got student loans and I want four point O
Calling me apa and calling me wizard but you better call me the goat
Yeah
contract you
Forty cal's looking sweet
On them honeycomb seats, just like Cassie
My Sean John's freak
Get you what you want, just
Not that deep, yet,
trying to make it
Mamma, I'm just a ghetto child trying to make it
It's real when you can do whatever you want to do
when you want to do it
Ain't
Bruce Wayne
Spot up and dunk on your block like a 2 way
And no we ain't playing no 2k
No we ain't caring what you say
Drank in my cup and I'm feeling like
on your blunts
Can't afford a chain so you wear gold fronts, yeah
You're fakin' the funk, kid
And you'll be gettin' it up the ass if you ever did
'em 'bout the League)
Oh yes, the League of Justice
(And did you remember what they need?)
These kids, they want substance
Rhymes and beats keep my day
Mos Def speaking)
I?m not gon sing a song or nothing.
Um, what that term they call it post traumatic stress syndrome? That thing that
Uh,
didn't sign up for this shit for real
Lemme show you the world and how I see it through my vision
Money on they books is what my niggas get for Christmas
And I was scared to let you go, even though you treated me bad
But I don't want my kids to see me getting beat down
By daddy smacking mommy all around
You
crack, go for drugs again
And it make you want to go and bust your gat again
But if you got a problem grab a pen, write a letter
And send it
And a new nigga
Til yo face turn blue nigga
And he beat yo mama ass
What you gone do
What you gone do
What the fuck you gone do nigga
Put him in the hospital
Track after track after track after track
I be dropping back to back, just for you to say it's wack
It's the lack of respect you posess
Left behind
block
Fuck it might dance on his block like we making a reel
And I'm from New York, so once I slide on your block nigga you know the drill
And I got
Y'all know me, I'm the OG mob!
I rap battle zombies and blow things up!
So you can call this my bomb track
I go out with a bang on a mob rap!
Heheh, hey
home, it's over for you Gucci clones
1500, all in singles (straight up!)
Throw it up, watch it fall and drop
'Round and 'round they go
'Round
That's amazing
Grind hard and
Take risks and prosper
Hustle been passed down
From our fathers
New game is full of imposters
If you want it
You gotta
or I'm coming for your fucking neck
I know it's in my name but on this track I ain't feeling dead
Super Saiyan drip wrapped around my waist and by my legs
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