Lyrics We Can Do That Too - Hell Razah, 4th Disciple, Baghdad

We Can Do That Too

Niggaz be walkin' around with blind folds on
Thinkin' it was all good, right?
They thought, thought we wasn’t gon' continue on right?
But y’all niggaz fell asleep
(Hell Razah) + (Trebag)
When you thought it was the winter time it started to chill
(We keep it hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot)
A lot of cats stop bein hungry after they deal
Let’s get money, we make it sweet
(Stop stop s-stop stop s-stop stop)
Ain’t no comin' up in Red Hook thinkin' you ill
They try to come back to the neighbourhood
(We got it locked locked l-locked locked l-locked locked)
Y’all can shine for these ho’s wit cha diamonds and wheel
Tell y’all have a little fun right now)
(Until it drop drop d-drop drop d-drop drop)
(Hell Razah)
I stay street like a bodega
Razah be the alpha to ya omegas
Y’all gettin' nosy like my old neighbours
Did he blow?
Do he drive?
Talk about me every time I pass by
Sippin my wine with the fiery eyes
Armageddon movin' close by
I toast to the only Most High
Here to stomp out egos and pride
Soon to blow like when worlds collide
Me and music be a groom and the bride
I catch niggaz when they real high
Walkin' out they studio time
Ain’t no comin' out, I gotta choose tai
From hearin new rhymes, pack two nines
When I decide whoever that — givin' bad rhymes
Those with double minds better choose sides
God amendment, my father house is mini-mansions
Price of life, it ain’t worth gamblin or chancin
It ain’t over till I bring my camp in
Cut ya heads off like the braids of Samson
(Yeah yeah y-yeah)
(Chorus: Hell Razah)
Y’all wanna blow in the first week?
We can do that too
Y’all wanna start your own label?
We can do that too
Y’all wanna drive bangin' whips?
We can do that too
Y’all wanna open bank accounts?
We can do that too
Y’all wanna take up all the chicks?
We can do that too
Y’all wanna represent your hood?
We can do that too too too
(Hell Razah (Trebag))
What the fuck you thought?
I wasn’t comin' back with ghetto super
Niggaz changed 'cause they got a little ad in The Source
Play the game, fuck the fame, put yo brains in yo beef lo mein’s
Scared niggaz better tuck in ya chains
Street cats turned industry now, just to be down
And still can’t be heard if they signed with Loud
A lotta ho’s when they in ya weed clouds, unbutton they blouse
Waitin to be the first draft pick out the crowd
It’s just a circus 'coz y’all some fashobi clowns
You know damn well you owe and that you stole that crown
Your mindstate hold infinite rounds, surround sound
When I let off, ya grandmoms a getty get down
I kick shit that make a lyricist lounge sniff you out like a bloodhound
For comin' up wit wack ass styles
Remember me like ya address
We’re leavin' you with holes in ya vest (BA BLAOW)
And droppin' bombs like I’m rollin' with Flex