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zuò cí : Henderson, Johnson, Muchita |
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Check it out now. |
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Word up Son, shit is ill kid. |
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Knahmsayin? Bein that we livin the motherfuckin trife life |
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Don' t have another day right? |
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It' s only right |
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Let me put you on to what happens Son, never believe this shit |
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Kick that shit |
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It' s just another day, drownin my troubles with a forty |
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That' s when I got the call from this brownskin shorty |
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She asked me where' s my crew at? Said we could do whatever |
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She got her crew too, and said that we should get together |
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I said," Aight just call me back in a hour |
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so I can take a shower and gather up the manpower" |
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Then I hung up the horn |
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And I thought to myself that it might be on |
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Cause this trick ain' t pick up the phone to call me in years Why? |
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Ever since I left the hoe lonely in tears |
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Ain' t no tellin what her friends puttin up in her ears |
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Ideas of settin me up, I' m not tryin ta hear |
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Check it out, Son So we take the gats for precautions |
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Plus this trick live in Brooklyn, home of the coffin |
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She might got a whole batallion of Bucktowners |
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Waitin for us to get up off the train and surround us |
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Or maybe, I' m blowin this shit out of proportion |
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But this shit do happen, to niggaz very often |
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So fuck it, a nigga gotta do what he meant to |
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My crew got my back, fuck the world is my mental |
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We put together five soldiers, the bitch called |
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My blood curdled, told me to meet her on Myrtle |
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Got to the plaza, we' re waitin for the G train |
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We put a plan together, just in case the beef came |
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Now we Bed Stuy bound |
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Far from home and on unknown ground |
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But together we six deep, with fire piece, nuttin sweet |
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First nigga frontin gettin lifted off his fuckin feet |
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It took eternity, we reached our destination |
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My heartbeat is racin like a cardiac patient |
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We finally got to Myrtle outside the train station |
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I saw not a soul, told my peoples to be patient |
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But hold up, thats when a black caravan rolled up |
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My legs then froze up, I grabbed my pound |
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Told my man," Eyes open cause it might go down" |
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Said he don' t like the way the shit is startin to sound |
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Evey angle of the car was smoked out and tinted |
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So we couldn' t tell if the enemy was in it |
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It mighta been TNT, I wasn' t tryin to wait and see, we |
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jetted thru Marcy cause Dee' s ain' t baggin me |
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Word Son, they got us on the run, Dunn, see yo |
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Chorus: |
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Check it out, check it out, check it out, yo |
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Trife life got me thinkin like an animal |
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No doubt, no doubt, no doubt, no doubt yo |
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What can kill you is what you don' t know |
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OK check it, you' re on your way to your girl' s crib |
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But the bitch live in the ' Bridge |
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You ain' t really sweatin it, cause little do you know |
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The niggaz in the ' Bridge be settin it |
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You thought you was safe and tried to walk the backstreets without heat |
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on the 41st Side settin it of 12th Street |
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The cyberniggaz don' t give a fuck |
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Decide well if you come thru frontin, kid you gettin bucked |
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On your way, to apartment 3A |
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with a phat herringbone, let him slide, no days |
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Son get the heat, cause I' m about to stick em |
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Fuck that shit, yo if that nigga front, yo hit him! |
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Aight bet, so just hold it down |
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while I cock back the long three pound |
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You' re upstairs bonin, not knowin that I' m scheamin |
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Just the right time kid, it' s twelve in the evenin |
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You' re leavin out the buildin as you kiss your girl goodbye |
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Thought you was safe and got caught by surprised |
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" What' s goin on?", as I reply, |
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" Shut the fuck up and don' t make this ' to another homicide" |
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He tried to play tough so I put one in his brain |
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Even though I took his life, all I wanted was the chain |
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Come through truck without heat, how you figure? |
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When you in the projects keep your fingers on the trigger |
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But fuck that we' re juxin, if you got what we like you gets tooken |
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Put you on your back, send you on your way, yo good lookin |
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Now be catchin the cap that holes in ya Lewis in Brooklyn |
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Gettin to' up from the flo' up, hit the dress sto' up |
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Got the 800in case a nigga wanna roll up |
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Get' cha motherfuckin shit swoll up |
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Now it' s back to Queens to serve fiends |
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Makin G' s by any means, my eyes on my enemies |
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Sippin Hennessey, with my mind on some crime shit |
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Onetime searchin me but never ever find shit |
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It' s the everyday, get the loot then breeze |
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Though my goal is to leave outta state, push ki' s |
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But all this bullshit holdin me down, I can' t leave |
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Fuck a 9to5, I get the loot with ease |
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Don' t even need a degree to earn a sixdigit figure |
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I get mines slingin on the corner with my niggaz |
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Pullin the trigger when the drama appears |
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Cause that nigga worse enemy is FEAR |
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So yo. |
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Chorus |
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No doubt, so what can kill you is what you don' t know. |
| [04:31.330]ad lib to outro] |
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