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I got a hundred guns, a hundred clips, nigga I'm from New York |
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I got a semi automatic that spits next time if you talk |
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I got a hundred guns, a hundred clips, nigga I'm from New York |
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I got a semi automatic that spits next time if you talk |
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And I know |
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Y'all niggaz is pussy, poonani, vagina |
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Your monologue's getting tired, now it's time to ride |
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You're print distrified, you're no longer desired |
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So take off them silly chains, put back on your wire |
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I'm on fire, holly dipped in octane |
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Let each coast bang, let west coast bang |
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And Rule gonna bring the ghetto gospel |
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To every hood possible, pushin' through in the sky blue |
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Back with the Gods you now, preferably the 4 pound |
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Slugs flyin' at the speed of sound |
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Tryin' to catch the ears of niggaz that's runnin' their mouths |
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I might get my Brooklyn niggaz to run in your house |
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I don't really understand what the runnin's about |
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But we're hunters, we take pride in airin' our prey out |
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Leavin' 'em layed out, dead, in just a sport |
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'Cause we ain't playin' up here in New York |
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I got a hundred guns, a hundred clips, nigga I'm from New York |
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And you can tell the way the homie spit, that nigga, I'm from New York |
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I got a hundred ways to make a grip, yes, I'm from New York |
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And you can tell I get real ignorant, 'cause nigga, I'm from New York |
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And this is how we do |
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Nigga, I can see the coke in your nose |
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This ain't a movie, even he got his head blown on the globe |
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And I was just about to find God |
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But now that maze is back, I think I'd much rather find a menage |
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And everybody talkin' crazy how they're AK spit |
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But we know this investigatin', and they ain't spray shit |
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Not me, I'm the truth homie, got the industry shook like |
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"Naw nigga, Joe gonna let 'em loose on me" |
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True Story, I'm bringin' the T back |
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Even Roy Jones was forced to lean back |
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My nigga Dre said grind cook |
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Now we killin' them Howard niggaz |
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Who said I must of found Pun's rhyme book? |
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Got bitches on top of the Phantom |
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And the Pinky got bling, like the ring around Saturn |
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Cook coke, crack, niggaz fiend for that |
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And you already know the X is where the team be at |
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I got a hundred guns, a hundred clips, nigga I'm from New York |
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Ruff Ryde, and D block and shit, nigga fuck what you thought |
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And you can't take shit for granted, because life is too short |
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I got a hundred guns, a hundred clips, nigga I'm from New York |
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And this is how we do |
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I swear it couldn't be sweeter, life's a bitch |
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Depending on how you treat her, you might get rich |
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It's guaranteed you gonna die, you might get missed |
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For maybe 2 or 3 hours, till they light their spliffs |
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And that coke will get you a long time |
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But when I let 'em know the dope is out, it's like America Online |
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Wise has awoken, and you know they say that |
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"You deserved it whenever you die with your eyes open" |
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I still hold a title, because I'm in the hood like them little motorcycles |
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Stick up kids, hoppin' out with them old rifles |
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Just doin' shit for nothin, it's so spiteful |
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Ha I'm just like you |
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Word that niggaz wanna murk you is in the air |
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A double shot of yak and the purple is in the air |
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And I'm not cocky, I'm confident |
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So when you tell me I'm the best it's a compliment |
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I got a hundred guns, a hundred clips, nigga I'm from New York |
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And you can tell the way the homie spit, 'cause nigga I'm from New York! |
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I got a hundred guns, a hundred clips, nigga I'm from New York |
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I got a semi automatic that spits next time if you talk |
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And this is how we do! |
