Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Firehouse, artist - GZA/Genius. Album song The Pro Tools Instrumentals, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 16.03.2009
Record label: Babygrande
Song language: English
Firehouse |
| My life rest in a .45, aim for the head, chest fortified |
| Sons look for revenge, out of stress, daughters cry |
| Gotta do it here, can’t afford to try |
| Thought the gutter ended in the 'Ville, then I saw the 'Stuy |
| They get wet daily, it’s a live nigga water ride |
| Slow and steady win the race, step aside, let the tortoise by |
| It’s the hunted man, street value hundred grand |
| Instinct, nothing planned, been through shit you couldn’t understand |
| Cain, Hec, and Dawuan — I’m repping the lifeless |
| Weapon of crisis, guns run out, I’m steppin' in |
| Checkin' for secondary devices, live in the real world |
| Fuck bitches, get love from a real girl, raised my sister |
| Amongst the slime and the crime, now she a ill pearl |
| You never seen nothing like me, I’m for those who get it on nightly |
| You need a boost of strength, put it on, recite me |
| I tour with toast, cuz drama’s always close |
| Feeling the waves, kill the praise, applaud my folks |
| From the core, the most raw, absorb the quotes |
| For sure I’m the cure, and there’s more of the dose |
| Yeah, I’m from the bottom but I look forward to gross |
| In the gutter, some ride, some chill (some chill) |
| I’m from the gutter, some 'Stuy, some 'Ville (some 'Ville) |
| Know many brothers, some cry, some build |
| Word to the mother, some lie, some steal (steal) |
| Some get popped, some die, some heal (some heal) |
| Some get knocked, some hide and some real |
| (Some even bust shots, some live, some kill) |
| (But that’s gutter where Ka and them chill) |
| Slim nigga with the fat pound, back down |
| Most brolic dude, try to move, hit him in the face |
| Never again taste solid food. |
| Same nigga |
| If I’m in solitude, or with the wildest crew |
| Bulletproof down my coats like Ghost’s wallets, too |
| I run wit a crook or two, look who escaped out Brooklyn Zoo |
| Fuck that queen, I show you what a knight, and a rook’ll do |
| New York City Bronson, heat up quicker than Vinnie Johnson |
| The block got Bloods now, it’s like a mini Compton |
| To have honey smiling, need money piling |
| Bundles, bundles, bundles, a hundred thousand |
| That’s why with my gun I’m browsing |
| On the hottest strip to see who I gotta hit to start running housing |
| I listen to my id, respect my ego |
| If I need council, bounce through, check my people |
| The first on Earth with the same thirst I accept is equal |
| Never move with crews, you’ll lose, they steps beneath you |
| I rep it lethal in beef, might elect to mesquite you |
| From where the beast greet you, do as much as dirt as us, but they preach lethal |
| The block is class, the blast from the heat teach you |
| Get one lesson, fail, oh well, the streets keep you |
| Pat his jeans, one magazine, sheet sleep you |
| I embody, every nigga who carried a shotty |
| Forced to grow up quick, never sat on the potty |
| Went from crawl to run, we want all or none |
| Being fatherless bothered us, everybody we called 'em son |
| Block scholastic, sellin chips from the rock jurassic |
| For heavy glory, mark territory 'fore I rot in casket |
| Thought our young committee was gon' run the city |
| One fears being unprepared, so I brung the Smitty |
| If you dare come and get me, I’m from royalty |
| I represent myself, don’t need no lawyer fee |
| People call on me, cuz I’m ready when it’s urgent |
| Too much grace to tremble, hand steady as a surgeon |