| Uh, someone called the cops on him
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| Someone told his pops on him
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| He was talking crooked and he had some rocks on him
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| Tucked, tucked in his socks' corner
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| Chucks, chucks and the Charlotte Hornet
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| Cap, when he flowed then they all surprised on him
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| Yes, he’s a Fugee but he go all Nas on ‘em
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| Well, can’t go Pras on ‘em
|
| And he got that crossover
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| But he from the streets you don’t cross over
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| Hut, hut to the block soldiers
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| Buck, buck to the cop vultures
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| Nope, no I don’t know pilots
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| Nigga I know pirates
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| Violence the islands
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| Shout out to my idrens
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| Put your hands up like it’s a mother fuckin' siren
|
| Well, I paid all my dues
|
| Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah
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| Shone a million shoes
|
| Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah
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| ‘Cause when you got nothing left
|
| Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah
|
| You got nothing to lose
|
| Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah
|
| I used to stand on Vernon and 10
|
| Burnin' a spliff burner on hip
|
| Wishing to flip a bird, yac burning my chest
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| Black certainly I’m dressed
|
| Strictly that army shit
|
| Finish my shift
|
| Pack gone before the dawn hit
|
| Anything I could earn on the strip
|
| Turn it and flip
|
| Watching my back
|
| Cooking the pot
|
| Making it stretch
|
| Discussing with' my clique
|
| Should we duct tape the connect
|
| It’s rough and K’naan knows
|
| He had the same woes
|
| I’m voicing my opinions
|
| I forgot y’all was there
|
| I ain’t know y’all was still listenin'
|
| Be honest I ain’t care
|
| Y’all don’t get my innuendos my interests
|
| Y’all on some simple shit
|
| Thinking I’m preachy
|
| Yeah my church is the world
|
| Christians sip a cup of this holy water
|
| Stuck at this phony border
|
| It’s custom to enter the main stream
|
| You must front and record
|
| A poorer oratory
|
| Your life story corny
|
| Yo, my Somali niggas know what war be
|
| We fam'
|
| Remember when niggas said Nas was Somalian
|
| Baseball caps had the tags, like a yardie and
|
| It was written just came out, I was gnarly then
|
| Niggas dreaded seein' me like a Rastafarian
|
| We didn’t know the dress code though we was bargainers
|
| The knock off Filas, with the pumps and cheap cardigans
|
| Niggas looked corny I admit, we was foreigners
|
| But this corny kid, quick to send you to the coroners
|
| Y’all know my war story, I won’t repeat it
|
| It’s just injury, my victory’s undefeated
|
| Thought you knew me well, go back and delete it
|
| I’m in every joint this year, Orthopedic
|
| And yes the AK’s are instruments we do drum ‘em
|
| I’m somewhere between killa and king Solomon
|
| And the shades take half the face we over stun ‘em
|
| And treat obstacles like ass we overcome ‘em
|
| Man, they really made me do this
|
| I was peaceful like a Buddhist
|
| But then niggas came and screwed it up like Judas
|
| Now I’m suited up with Lugers
|
| Rugers suddenly intruders
|
| Turn around like hoola hoopers
|
| Fucking losers
|
| This one’s for the world
|
| This one’s for your girl
|
| This one’s for your mama
|
| This one’s for your nana |