Lyrics:
spot
We about to ride on the world
Leave it deserted like Mars
Get your wig spilt, by 40 juggalo rap stars
A little kid asked me if
I ever killed anybody
off, shit
How we talk, shit
Don't need no guap, kid
Around yo block, kid
This for yo momma
Make her feel just like a boss bitch
For yo momma
Ay
I ain’t
sounding very good,
They look very good, and kids over there really appreciate good music and
Stuff. and I think the next time we're gonna play
gotta go" I wished you'd stay.
That night we must have talked for 2 hours
Discussin everything from my tour to if the world could be pure.
To where I was
of a master
You never thought you'd be bodied by a bastard
A bachelor who backspin on breakbeats
Break necks of broke souls who hate me
Hate he? you can't
the ride outs
20 man on bikes we were doing up Tour d Italia
Same year all changed when Adam got killed
The night before I was on the block with him
Never
on a world tour to help free the poor
From the local drug cats to kids in front of the store
Number runners, gangbangers and the big money spenders
I put the name Microphones on the tapes I would make late at night after work at the record store. I was already by then a couple years deep into
fulfilling
I scream with the beastie boys, what time is it?
It's two o'clock, you gettin knocked out the box
Then kicked off the block, def squad hit squad
ready for that (Statik)
Detroit vs. Everybody
Uh, I took a bite out the rotten apple by the poison tree
All these females need to email to make noise
they love the kid
I I get it,
Whoa hey
I I get it,
Whoa hey
I I get it,
Whoa hey
Yeah,
Whoa hey
I run New York!
Whoa hey
I I get it,
Whoa hey
Yeah
Hah
Yo
Ugh
Yeah
(Verse 1)
He went from a street kid doin regular street things
Straight to a street king
Takin over the city, block by block
a landmine
Steady tryna get the best vibes, I'm thinkin' Cali for the summer
I'm in the booth like a 9 to 5 tryna be on tour by November
Got a lotta trash
say we take it back to the trap one time
[Chorus]
I went from rolling with them rocks on the block
To controlling my position at the top of every
Hold the dice, NYPD alarm, need to be calm
Nothin' but gunshots, kids need to be home
Block so hot, the fire hydrant need to be on
(Harlem)
The fiends
the corner store
It get real by the corner store
Niggas tryna make a meal by the corner store
Keep your kids from the corner store
Because these niggas round
lucky, my God! Flight of Icarus in those grubby dirty by now horribly sticky little fingers and
hands and grubby palms, and oh what else is grubby, I don't
nigga
We wouldn't have to hit the kid proving yourself 'cause who really cares bout
What side or block you reppin'
Your whereabouts will keep you
payin them dues, nuttin to lose
Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels
Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues
_hardcore_!
in Jaguars
Open fire when you see me yell out and make em whisper
The club that I'm a member, they'll be gone by November
Keys to the city got killers
Pull up in the car with a new bitch in it
Circle 'round the block
Now I got two bitch in it
Never runnin' out because my juice infinite
I'm just out
stock
I’m the new kid on the block
That lil bitch on my jock
I’m the new kid on the block yeah, yeah
I’m going up in my stock
I’m the new kid
Ain't no sitting on the block
Cause i'm on that shit
Wierd car new glock
Finna blow on they shit
I be tweakin cant smoke
Mind gone and shit
And i
And gun's on tour buses always belong to the rapper, uh
(Live by it you die by it)
My little man ride around strapped
Hunting for an OP he can catch
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