Live From The Streets
(专辑: Up Close & Personal - 2001)
[unknown singer] Ohhhhh.. senorita.. when the
evening sun go down I
come to.. serenade you.. from another part, of town [car tires peeling out] [Angie Martinez] Let's get it on it's Angie Mar' reportin live from the
streets From Y.O. to Philly and Harlem to Q.B. When it drops it's game over, you'll see Introducing, Jadakiss and Styles P, where you at? [The L.O.X.] Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo You know we still in the
hood dog, in front of the
store With the
work across the
street and the
gun in the
stall Soon as somethin happen niggaz wanna run to the
law You know the
code of the
streets, never run to the
law That's why I
can't even run 'less I
run with a
four or I
walk with a
three, come and talk to 'em P
You can catch me down bottom with a
bird and a
glock On the
block makin money where they murder a
lot Or you can catch me up top shootin dice for a
yard I'm talkin six digits, niggaz bet the
house or the
car You can catch me hittin the
spliff, sick in the
pit On the
fiend like I'm missin my shit, they think I'm crazy Catch me hittin your lady in my Mercedes Bird on your baby, fuck you I'm keepin it gravy L.O.X. hold the
hammers like we waitin for screws With Angie Mar' BLOWIN MOTHERFUCKERS OUT OF THEY SHOES, WHAT? [Angie Martinez] Comin live from the
streets where some died tryin to eat From Y.O. to Philly, from Harlem to Q.B. And when it drops, game over, you'll see Introducin, Beanie Sigel, tell me how you livin? [Beanie Sigel] Aiyyo, I've been kickin murder since Adidas with thick strings T.I. sweatsuits, Pumas with thick chains Four finger rings, black belts with brass names I
was spittin flames since niggaz was pitchin change I'm a
hard knock kiddo, always played the
middle Threw flacks in the
crack game, getchu if I
can getchu Since a
buck, played the
highway, dodgin the
troop boys Jumpin in and out of Coupes, wavin for Duke boys Always chased a
penny, copped quarter waters Tried to make a
dollar chased my pop's boss daughters Tryin to make my name, global, in all four corners Philly baller, gamin in all four quarters Never worked, never will all my hoes buy my clothes I
can't go broke, never will all my bros buy my O's I'm the
best thing that linked up with New York since Sprewell I
murder, nuttin further fill in the
details [Brett] I'm here, it's over, fuck how y'all feel When I
drop, y'all gon' realize it's all real Bein left for dead, tied up, smoke 'til I
was dried up So high up, seem like the
sky ducked, high what? Life was rough, but now it's nothin to hide Used to click and be quick to put this gun to yo' side Be like, "That chain nice I
like that pal. Matter fact {*click click*} I'd like that now." You've got game? Call the
name, just spell the
name right Brett, one of the
best rappers ever to touch a
mic It's prophecized I'd write, spit scriptures mind blowin 'til my coffin top close and heaven skies open Fear no man's my slogan, I
hope y'all believe I'm just like you, fear nuttin human that bleeds My mind breed two movies, six ab-lums, a
hundred poems Thirty R&B joints, I'm beyond the
norm, y'all just mad I'm just glad, got my time to shine Y'all the
type to hit three hundred bars and run out of rhymes [Angie Martinez] Brett, from my ByStorm family, with Angie Come live from the
streets, from Harlem to Q.B. And when it drops, game over, you'll see Introducin, finally, the
legendary Kool G. [Kool G. Rap] It's B.G.S. kid so what you facin? Caps racin Decapitation twenty buck-fifties and lacerations Guerilla fam' camouflaged out in the
grass waitin to blass your nation slash like Jason and bash your face in We ass lacin top bodies and half in the
basement Our style, cast you so bad you'll need plastic replacement When gats is raised in, fascination blastin and blazin Evacuation for your whole staff there's gas in the
tank and Gets back abrasions from cap grazin, defy gravitation Pull my shit back squeeze bust it like masturbation Hold fort, hold the
blow torch, leave your soul scorched with no remorse, the
state of New York, get your shit caught When niggaz hawk, let the
fifth talk So tell me who's the
next man to flip? I
stop the
beef shit, with rubber handled grips Your candle get lit, guerilla shit feed us banana clips The
hammers hit, anything in our range we dismantle it [Angie Martinez] Like to say thanks to my street correspondents, for gettin on this Comin live and direct with no nonsense Sorry folks for hurtin y'all, the
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