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Yeah, yo |
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Ladies and gentlemen I present to you straight out the Gangstarr Foundation: |
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BIG SHUG! Go ahead speak on... |
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[Big Shug] |
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Catch me sipping on that moonshine tonic |
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Freshly dipped in these hip hop garments |
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You try to bomb it, I take it and disarm it |
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Hit you in the gut now you vomit, Sean John all on it |
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But I rock them wheels |
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Real niggas pop up and stay right there |
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Fake niggas stand down and stay right there |
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This is street music so it stays right here |
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Big shug, I spit fire for the hood |
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For realness feel this, higher for the hood |
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Blazing blocks, ripping internet some web pages |
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I rip stages, with ?v-block? and singapore |
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You want the raw? It's pure and uncut |
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Me and my cats we're pure and uncut |
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You niggaz is butt, so I say screw ya |
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I bring them four fives and two twos to do ya |
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[Chorus] |
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I bring the fire to your grill, I barbecue ya |
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I got the flames on blaze, just to do ya |
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I'MA DO YA! |
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(*"Ease up, don't squeeze up"*) |
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(*"Then let it be known, I don't play" Latee - No tricks*) |
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I bring the fire to your grill, I barbecue ya |
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I got the flames on blaze, I'ma do ya |
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I'MA DO YA! |
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(*"Ease up, don't squeeze up"*) |
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(*"Then let it be known, I don't play" Latee - No tricks*) |
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[Big Shug] |
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You wouldn't know the truth if it bit you in the throat |
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If it was written all over linen in your coat |
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If it jumped up and slapped you to the floor |
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If it banged in your head like ?two-one-four? |
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You breath the fakeness, click click take this |
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You fake rich, so you dont own shit |
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And soon all your kids will just know |
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That dad's homo and you scream: Oh no! |
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I see through you, I ?peep? your concept |
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You need to understand like Funkmaster Flex |
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I drop bombs on nothing but real shit |
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My hip hop is nothing but real shit |
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Like hot bricks, it sticks to your ribs |
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Front on me and I'll do ya, kid! |
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I straight do ya! |
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(*"Ease up, don't squeeze up"*) |
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(*"Then let it be known, I don't play" Latee - No tricks*) |
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[Chorus] |
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[Big Shug] |
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It's a thin line between snitch and jake |
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Between real and fake, between piehead and cake |
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You snitch the jake and get killed |
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Real niggaz pop, fake niggaz get drilled |
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I make cake for moving, them pies and pills |
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**** the gangsta overkill, I spit for real |
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Deal is in place, rhymes is in place |
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Jaw is out of place when you spit with this taste |
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Or even approach with that disrespect |
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I put two to your neck and beat your ass for wreck |
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I straight do ya! |
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(*"Ease up, don't squeeze up"*) |
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[Chorus] |
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{*DJ Premier scratches to the end*} |
