Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song I Am (Kool G Rap & Rakim) , by - G. DepRelease date: 19.04.2005
Song language: English
I Am (Kool G Rap & Rakim) |
| G Rap with my nigga G-Dep |
| We about to do it Gorilla style, u heard |
| It’s a Igloo-Badboy collabo thing u know |
| Y’all niggaz ain’t ready for it Coming rambo style nigga |
| 2 guns up |
| Y’all niggaz better duck down |
| I’ll get your cap lifted off |
| Thats how we doing it for the new millennium u heard |
| Regardless of the wait i’m gonna stay straight ghetto |
| Everybody high, don’t nobody say hello |
| Even when the sunshining it ain’t yellow |
| Get out of the borough |
| If u know it ain’t thorough |
| Niggas play ball, AWOL, on the furlow |
| Still came down on the furl and pumped hero |
| Red and grey Macs |
| Keep it clean as Ajax |
| Ghettos sling cracks |
| While u niggas pay tax |
| Now how ghetto is this |
| u can catch me in your hallway taking a piss |
| One hand on my dick one hand on a spliff |
| Burnt lips from the roach clip, yellow tips |
| If we aint closed it I get ferocious |
| Know this whole shit will leave me in them roaches |
| In your car motion I cause commotion |
| And i probably need some lotion |
| But i don’t get fucked |
| I am |
| (a ghetto nigga) |
| A ghetto nigga you can tell in a talk |
| On the corner selling the snort |
| It’s hell in New York |
| Won’t stop for a minute cops telling you hawk |
| Fake guards telling you pork |
| Settle for shorts |
| Running from court |
| New ports, criminal thoughts |
| On the blocks bodies acourt |
| Nobody supports |
| It’s a ghetto nigga thorough niggas that get cake |
| Five boroughs of niggaz do his? |
| a? |
| flip weight |
| Change garments to trick Jake, u dis jake |
| I want it yo I got warrants in six states |
| They come in a stolen whip with switched plates |
| Stickers hate I never leave a bread to trace |
| Only evidence I leave is hickies on chicks’face |
| In the corner with the crooked niggas |
| But yo shit’s straight |
| We start war to leave with these seven revolvers |
| Sell case never test the floor |
| Sticky yank slicking enough y’all |
| I’m a man enough to put on a dress |
| To creep up like grand-moma and bust y’all |
| Get close enough to part your vest and tux off |
| Who would have thought the lady with the car would crush y’all |
| Too smart to get caught |
| But I got fam up north |
| So if they put me in coughs |
| I’ll call fuck y’all |
| Knock back the hammer smell the |
| Pop that cantelope |
| For the venom in my python spit |
| It ain’t no antidote |
| Jackpot from crack blocks |
| I was a man of dope |
| Snapshots to get your camera broke |
| You hoes used to plan a gross |
| With the hands toast |
| Close and stand opposed |
| Rubber bands she knows |
| Grams of the coke |
| Razor blade tuck the side the line |
| The banter of the coke |
| Watching niggas die with my hand on their doe |
| Singing with the bass |
| And wash up the? |
| land? |
| when they float |
| Choking on your own words |
| Should have watched the ground when u spoke |
| One last final approach |
| Make your whole family ghost |
| Bust bottles of cham and and we toast |
| Till your photo stamped in the post |
| Sex gland cut off jammed in ur throat |
| Man are u gross |
| Bitch hanging from the lampost |
| We shoot from up close |
| Blow canners the most |
| Catch an overdose |
| Nigga we own the coast |
| I am |
| (a ghetto nigga) |