Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Smith Bros., artist - Raekwon. Date of issue: 30.10.2006
Song language: English
Smith Bros. |
| Take it back 1993, '94 or something |
| Yeah, runnin' through the stairs and shit |
| Trynna to get to the roof |
| Narcotos is on, some other shit |
| My niggas won’t stop til we straight, select bigger gates |
| We won’t stop until we buyin' estate, yo |
| Pull out them burners and front, where I’m from |
| Better shoot something, if not, niggas won’t salute nothing |
| Corner filled chains and Gucci glasses |
| The was the era when we flipped all the shh, on the store, splashed it |
| Had Dominicans runnin' and eatin' steak and cheese sandwiches |
| They in the back, braggin', the fifth slut |
| Fuckin' with a few niggas nieces, take it back when we would |
| Rock for a leases and stand on the speakers |
| I got the shit locked, I’ll battle you, you, you and your whole gridlocked |
| Little shit, supported the beef |
| Fly Pierre couldn’t tell me nothin' with a brand new beard |
| Couldn’t wait, but kept survivin' the years |
| We sold crack daily, crack mad bailey’s, crack faces and skulls |
| Sit back, watchin' the mack, twist carefully |
| It was them horrifyin' times, spit dimes |
| Police sneak up, I hope he know the time, get mine |
| Just livin' the ghettos, where we suppose stand loyal |
| But the game’ll get you trapped when it’s time, yo |
| The year’s 1990, everybody grimey |
| Crack was what’s in it, the vehicles was 1−90's |
| Young shorties be gettin' their bread, haunted by Jamaicans |
| Them niggas had their corners on red |
| Map the laws, runnin' cards, playin' bars |
| Mask the coke in the cars, twist the gan', mad, crackin' cigars |
| Smokin' through Queens, bitches stealin' Guess jeans |
| Get the scope on our stars, little did we know, we folow they dreams |
| Now we get around in live limosines, flash stacks in cuisines |
| Combat, get to smackin' the fiends, just max for a minute and lean |
| All the shit for the moment, slick omens, my opponents would scheme |
| We were shot downtown, hit trains, buy cables and remain |
| The illest villains, walkin' in spots |
| Playin' the corners, baby, vision or not |
| Said yo, and when it’s on, we gon' rep and rock, nobody call the cops |
| Where all the major swingers, yo |
| Where all the live fresh, came home, up state livin' fly rangers |
| We rep them niggas and we love 'em |
| Sons, we hug 'em, they make it home and be gone in a week |
| That’s some letters, all my niggas live together |
| Baby yellin' whatever, we all write in hands, nothin' but creeps |
| Hold me down, love, I’ll hold you fatter |
| Watch me catch both of these actors, it’s Ice Water throwin' hits in the cling |
| Bloodhounds is on you, goons is beamin' |
| Take it to the team to team, plot thing, blew you a bean |
| It’s just a young poor hustlers thing |
| But your gun got a ring, if you gonna live like a young kid |
| Too all them killas and the bank robbers |
| This is another, another, Smith Bros. production |
| Production, it’s Lex Diamonds, muthafucka |
| You know what time it is |