Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song My Advice 2 You, artist - Gang Starr. Album song Moment Of Truth, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.12.1997
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Virgin Records America
Song language: English
My Advice 2 You |
Yo yo Gu-rizzi, yo |
Yo whassup son? |
Yo man, youknowhatImean? |
I need this money man |
Get up out in these, in these streets man |
Yo, so what’s the deal God? |
I’m sayin, what you need though? |
Yo let me have like, two or three, three G’s man |
I’m sayin, I’m sayin son man |
You know what happened last time though |
I gotta do what I gotta do man, I gotta eat man |
Whassup man? |
Oh your baby momma stressin you? |
Way past the days of the deuce me and you stays a crew |
Only a few percent knew what me and you went through |
We’ve been sent to dominate, these corny come-lates |
And set this crooked rap shit straight from Crenshaw to Castlegate |
Like Pete and CL, I reminisce over days |
From the streets of Boston to New York and all the ways |
For certain niggas to blow up, and crime paid |
But my praise goes to the most high |
Cause some nights I got so wild yo, I almost died |
Some stuff I got into, really scarred my mental |
Pops wasn’t tryin to hear it, cause of what he been through |
Still, like my nigga Havoc said, sometimes you gotta |
Hit your crew off, so they can make some bread |
Cause no matter the weather, niggas be needin cheddar |
And things in this world are more fucked up than ever |
So let’s make this bond to keep this hip-hop strong |
You a man Baby Pop you know right from wrong |
So stay out of trouble, and that goes for me too |
That’s what we need to do, that’s my advice to you… |
You remember what happened last time, when you got knocked |
Doin your thing, sewin shit up on the block |
You need to stop, fore you get caught again |
Or you get shot and I lose another friend |
«Any man with the plan is precise with his life» |
«Think twice» |
My advice to you, cut down on champagne and booze |
For a nigga like me, most time that shit’s bad news |
It’s like lightin a fuse whether it’s sneakers or shoes |
Cause somebody always wanna step up to start a feud |
It’s like Set-tin It Off but not the movie |
Plus let’s get some real women forget floozies and the groupies |
Cause they spell mad problems from Watts to Harlem |
And the bullshit won’t stop long as the world’s revolvin |
And I recall when niggas knew my pops had clout |
But they didn’t know my sorry ass was gettin kicked out |
And they was seein if I wanted to come bubble with them |
And make my ends triple and double with them |
And get in trouble with them, now memories of them |
I wear em in my heart like a emblem |
I doubt we’d ever be bigtime sellin dope coke or dust |
It’s killin us, let’s take our people and make a exodus |
Annhilation, inhalation through the lungs |
Or extermination, by the use of dirty guns |
Triple beam dreams and drug schemes of mad cream |
Could be a sad scene when you go to that extreme |
«Any man with the plan is precise with his life» |
«Think twice» |
«My advice is to you…» |