Lyrics:
funk
Still gettin' down
Music won't have no race
Only space, peaceful space
Now it's time for the trip
Step inside my little ship
I can tell by
funk
Still gettin' down
Music won't have no race
Only space, peaceful space
Now it's time for the trip
Step inside my little ship
I can tell by
back an bring out the madness
Light it up matches end with a blunt
Gutting the Dutch Sparkin the green
Stabbing my lungs I'm smoking a Cactus
Run up run
to start basin
It's hard! Hard on a nigga
Hard on a nigga (yeah it is, yeah it is)
(Kill kill kill, murder murder murder)
Watch out nigga!
[Chorus: ]
to start basin
It's hard! Hard on a nigga
Hard on a nigga (yeah it is, yeah it is)
(Kill kill kill, murder murder murder)
Watch out nigga!
[Chorus: ]
Rell, it's the new religion
Smack ya girl, pop two in her, triple vision
Hook 2x
Cam'ron:
That's two and out, let's go Dennis, you movin' slow Dennis
Girbauds, a 3X tall tee, and a beanie on
Who knew that me, myself and I would make it here? That's crazy
A lot of shit has changed since the version I had
don't do drive-by's, we park in front of houses and shoot (shoot)
And when the police come we fuckin' shoot it out with them too! (too)
That's
don't do drive-by's, we park in front of houses and shoot (shoot)
And when the police come we fuckin' shoot it out with them too! (Too)
That's
10 years ago!
Man, shut- listen man
You're killing yourself you should let me
Spit and come back i'm
Tellin' you it'll look better on
Camera for you
Wait two secs, let me spark this zoot
My niggas, they don't talk, they shoot
Roll up slow, then I park that coupe
And the game got fucked by
Hearing wHatcha say
Back tHen Had to be in by 10 but out by 12
Mom made it safe to work
I got tHe text on tHe cell
Back witH tHe Locs all raising Hell
Found
your ass rolled over
By this 200 & 20 lb. 9th ward bulldozer
(mr. serv-on)
You bet it's me the only one to spell everything out
The nigga to snatch your
And I don't care what you think about me, but just remember
When it hits the fan, brother, whether it's next year, ten years
Twenty years from now,
my boys got juice
Deuced it to the Bronx to rest our heads
Where a shoot-out jumped off mine people lay dead
It sounded like it happened with
no matter what it was we were side-by-side.
You know the type you see getting it in a
photo booth, matching shirts, flea market, photo shoots
We're on a time crunch bro
Got shit to do, another video to shoot
Shit... up all night
Yeah yeah
Goodbye, goodbye
To last year, last year, last year
of niggas bout gettin funky wit' me
Keep they fingers on triggers
Let's roll wit' a pistol I get out of control
It's your family I put on rows, front row
I'm mostly surrounded by apes, gorillas
Out of a broken home so
They label us hateful niggas
Never take a nation of mills
It takes a killer
Buy it by the brick and I sell it by the O
Sak kap fet nigga shout out to my zoe
At the gun store like eenie miney moe
Before I make a move line my
and dump on it
And send a couple of boys to that corner of yours
And role out with a nigga slumped on it
You see Black fall back son
Me and Shock up in
and dump on it
And send a couple of boys to that corner of yours
And role out with a nigga slumped on it
You see Black fall back son
Me and Shock up in
on his Compton hat
Told me when I got older I would understand that
It's blood in blood out and ain't no turnin' back
Few summers went by and we moved
It's funny, but so true
I'd rather be 80 year old me than 20 year old you
'Til I'm hitting old age, still can fill a whole page with a 10 year old's
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