Channel: Music
Uploaded: December 31, 1969 at 11:59 pm
Author: nonameforyall
Length: 04:39
Rating: 5.00
Views: 1179
The streets is mad right nowTell em why we madRappers whatever you call yourselfPack ya bags and get out of townCause i'ma strike down on thee wit great vengence and furious angerThose who attempt to poison da hoodI'ma let y'all know da preacher's son is backUh, refugee, one time, one timeUh, m.o.p., two time, two time, one timeBumpy knuckles now the world is in troubleCome onYo, you're number one on the chartsYou're a masqueradePaid for your billboard slotsYou're a masqueradeBecause the block knows hotYou're a masqueradeYou're livin in a uhYou're livin in a masqueradeI'm on firstSo, this ain't a rap verseIt's more like a voodoo curseSo when you die the kids'll throw rocks at ya hearseCause you lie too muchYou don't got no gatAt your arm reach is inkAt your headpiece now you pissin in your briefsHold upWe just saw you on your bet and mtv, a public access channelTalkin bout i'ma thugYou're an animal, a canibal, you even scare hannibalBut when the blackout came no light for your candleSo welcome to the real world where a spade is a spadeAnd i'ma call it like I see itAy, y'all living in a masqueradeEven though jacob iced you out wit the baguettesMoney wit no respect ¨c that makes you a suspectSo you can't ride through brownsvilleYou want peace you better call churchillIf not, feel clef when he connects wit m.o.p. family and plays guitar at your eulogyYou wanna claim you run da blockYou're a masqueradeGivin information to the copsYou're a masqueradeI mean you never seen a rockYou're livin in a uhYou're livin in a masqueradeMasqueradeNow the grimy lil bastards line upTime's upI'm upThey say we dem dans to show you how to get it crunkI'm still plottin wit foxTodayI do it wit clefWhoeverWe throw mack and that's to the death bless royaltyYou youngstas better get back before you get a set back and get clappedThat's it and that's thatClefHold thatTake all dat and fall backI kick too much assKick assTo rock jewels, rock pradaF-ck gucci shoes, timbs mo hottaWe still grip arms brook norm bound sh-tThe streets don't want that watered down sh-tFam, we clear the whole stageYou don't wannaa ride wit usWe got road rageNow i'ma let my hood tell youYou're a masqueradeI bet you feedin the dogsYou're a masqueradeI thought we still and we robYou're a masqueradeYou're livin in a uhYou're livin in a masqueradeI'm hittin sixteen barsA murder, real murder, babyThis ain't a façadeN¡ªgas pumpin they fist like they punchin at godsOver ten years rippin mcI bring it hardDon't make me split yo chest and pull yo cardR&b singer the greatest and now barredCause he been feelin on booties of too young cutiesGot mo bombs leftYou punk n¡ªgas, we used to shake your pumpy handsYou'll have no arms leftYou ain't a pimpYou ain't a mackYou keep b¡ªches in the house all dayI keep em on the trackDrinkin cocoa and wearin long mink coats blackHit em twelve-inch stilettosTappin through the ghettoI can see it in your eyesLittle n¡ªgas you ain't a part of shakin n¡ªgas hand, shakin n¡ªgas heartI keep the underground in shapeIt never be softYou wanna make it like them fat naked b¡ªches turnin me offNow i'ma let my hood tell youYou're a masqueradeI bet you feedin the dogsYou're a masqueradeI thought we still and we robYou're a masqueradeYou're livin in a uhYou're livin ïn a masquerade