*featuring Foxy Brown
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[Shyne] Uh huh
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[Foxy Brown] Uh
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[Shyne] Lets get it clear (Uh huh) Brooklyn Vietnam (That's right)
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[Foxy Brown] Yo yo... Live from the seven-one-eight y'all; Murder City
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[Shyne] Lay down nigga (It's the Ill Na Na)
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Cut ya dick off put it in ya mouth y'all understand? (Let's go)
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[1st Verse (Shyne)]
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Ride with me as I race through ya hood
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Give me a fifth that'll bang and a jury that'll hang
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Pants saggin' in that Bentley wagon
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Ayo that's my nigga Yacht if the mink is saggin'
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Since a youth I flipped, on some ruthless shit
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Had a thing for rings, bling, Coupes and shit
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Some' bout watchin' Montana come up outta Havana
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And rule this world made me wanna grab my hammer
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Fuckin' with the Cheddar Boys
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Some hustler flip girls instead of boys
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Keep filthy laweys, for when the FEDs annoy us
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We keep this shit gangsta nigga from verse to chorus
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And the Street Lords and Truly Yours
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Drive Modena Spiders and big exhaust
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Bleed for the streets love the war
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My nose bleeds for weeks I love the raw
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Puncture niggaz when I comfort niggaz
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Motor City to Brooklyn Veitnam
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Nigga it's on till my flesh is gone
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And even then I live on in gangsta form
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[Chorus]
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What you know about that?
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Macs and cash nigga how you love that?
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What you know about that?
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Doin' it up livin' it up, nigga what?
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What you know about that?
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The gully kid put it in your skully kid, bleed nigga what it is
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What you know about that?
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Yacht, Cheddar Boys, Streets Lords, truly yours
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[2nd Verse (Foxy Brown)]
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It's the "Godfather Buried Alive"
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Ayo Po it's the Ill Na Na stuntin' in 5.0
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Went to Brooklyn with the Rugers out
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In Flatbush and I keeps the Kiki poppin' off when the goons is out
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Yall got a muthafuckin problem when my dude get out
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Dutty Ay bust a shot for Shyne get the Guiness Stout
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Thats my word I got the Berken pulled over up on Parkside & Nostrond
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In the butter scotch Rover
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I'm ah bad gal style like I'm 'posta
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Got his comrades in Clinton bustin' nuts on my poster
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Phone check! Muthafucka hit the yard up
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Comm stop Mid-State Brooklyn niggaz squad up
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I'm hot steppin in the pink staline seven
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I'ma stunt till BIG tell me there's a ghetto up in heaven
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See through niggaz take they time like a man
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We don't snitch we don't sing on the stand but y'all don't hear me though..
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[Chorus]
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[3rd Verse (Shyne)]
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Money, cars, guns, hoes
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Sniff some blow and I'm good to go
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Eagle inflated Federal Bureau Investigated
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Most hated nigga read the affidavit
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Uh racing loud pipes
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big fucking exhausts burning the turnpike
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My game so tight I arouse dikes
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You punk rappers should paying me publishing the way you write
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And be sampling my life, every line in your rhyme
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Sound like you wanna be Shyne, and I don't blame ya
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Who wouldn't? Young nigga catching charges
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Continental Ts parked in garages
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Menages, odds is
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I'm the best spittin' it, nigga I'm gettin' it
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I admit it I was watching New Jack City
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And fucking with ?Goodfellas? Uncle Paul got me dying to ball
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Every thing I talk about I live it
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All you hear these rappers rap about I really did it
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I was designed to hold nines, and grind
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Step out of line put you in that white line
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Rearrange ya brain ain't nothin change
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You know the game jet planes and cocaine
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And what I say might be held against me
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I don't wanna talk, I'm the hottest nigga in New York
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[Chorus]
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-----------------
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The Gang
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| Shyne |
