Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song It's on You, artist - Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth.
Date of issue: 31.12.1993
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
It's on You |
It’s death before dishonor, strap the vest down tight when you bring the drama |
Now raise up off mine, and taste it in the raw |
Before snipers on the floor galore, in my hardware store |
Nightmares of thirsty crooks, niggas all acting fishy working off the books |
Painting pictures of poverty, causing armed robbery |
And if provoked, every last one gets smoked |
No doubt for real it’s like wildlife |
Where thugs forever pull caps and always keep a knife |
Cause on the strip, warfare’s inevitable, hot steel’s incredible |
And if surprised, the revolution won’t be televised |
When I supply and demand, as I build my currency to expand, Call it progress |
when I bless my territory all respect due |
But can niggas keep it real? |
It’s on you |
On you («Smile in my face, behind my back they talk trash») |
On you («Mad and stuff because they don’t have cash») |
On you («When I roll and stroll, cool always pack a tool») |
On you («Just in case… a brother acts a fool») |
Step into the dragon’s lair, where CL’s the don and Pete’s the creator |
Now praise the most high and represent the best |
Cause the number one killer of black men is stress |
The armed and dangerous, the bulletproof |
Couldn’t stop the homicide of another youth |
Penetrating your body parts with hollow point shells, you fraud |
Cause vengeance is mine said the Lord, indeed |
My own click now turns greedy |
Out of twelve of my soldiers, one will deceive me |
With salt in the game, shame the family and push |
My black ass straight into a terrifying ambush |
The whole empire’s at stake |
Mastering the streets, devil the mental won’t break and turn snake |
For Pete’s sake you gotta be true to the crew |
So if niggas want to set it, it’s on you |
On you («Smile in my face, behind my back they talk trash») |
On you («Mad and stuff because they don’t have cash») |
On you («When I roll and stroll, cool always pack a tool») |
On you («Just in case… a brother acts a fool») |
Capture the beast within me, beware when it’s moving deep in New York City |
The diabolical gangster chronicle mob scenes in all directions |
The type of connections to get your wig split |
Submit the wanted signs posted, chickens spots for major knots you get toasted |
To the head piece, I release firepower, only I’m controlling |
We put in work and got the right brothers rolling |
When hell kicks off we lick off |
Keeping mine hard like stone from the red zone, to each his own |
Smile in my face behind my back you talk trash |
Hope my pockets hit empty and my Lexus crashed |
But not in your wildest dreams |
Hear my name in all the scandals and all the schemes, I rest in Queens |
The Vernonville’s my capital, so memorize the cuts |
Then give you two more seconds to get off these nuts, it’s on you |
On you («Smile in my face, behind my back they talk trash») |
On you («Mad and stuff because they don’t have cash») |
On you («When I roll and stroll, cool always pack a tool») |
On you («Just in case… a brother acts a fool») |
Check it, Grap Luva, if you’re in the house |
Just get on the mic and show 'em what it’s all about |
It’s all about the wicked check one two |
Cause I rips a microphone and pass it to my crew |
I don’t drink no brew, I smoke nuff spliffs, I don’t have no riffs |
So check me as I shoot the gift |
Rip rhymes, freestyle rhymes |
Off top of the dome every time |
I’m glad this shit is going on tape |
So I can escape into the beat and make nuff papes |
Word to God, kicking nuff freestyle rhymes… |