[Intro: Tracey Horton (Rakim)]
|
La-da-da-dah, la-da-da-dah
|
La-da-da-dah, la-da-da-dah (Uh... yeah...)
|
(This is for the haters... keep hatin)
|
La-da-da-dah, la-da-da-dah
|
La-da-da-dah, la-da-da-dah
|
(It's what we call money music, right here)
|
(Uh, yeah, let's go in)
|
|
[Verse 1: Rakim]
|
I perform in cities, hoods, and slums, the best seller is drugs
|
And money is the only thing that get love
|
They say don't let it make you, but that's how they rate you
|
And the more you got, the more they hate you (That's okay too!)
|
Just don't get in the way, 'cause at the end of the day
|
My agenda's make sure I get them ends to get paid (uh-huh)
|
So I'm stackin grands 'til the math expand
|
It's the man with the master plan
|
Since the Bambino, cash made my path cross with evil
|
Uno dos cinco on a crowded corner rollin c-lo
|
To chips and the chick in the casino pourin Cliquot
|
'Cause now I make music for the c-notes
|
From New York to Puerto Rico, California to Rio
|
Hit the streets like the kilo but I'm legal
|
It's swga like I walk with heat though with all my people
|
But it's just me and my alter ego
|
|
[Chorus: Tracey Horton]
|
I walk these streets, with my mind on my plan
|
It's alright if you don't understand
|
I walk these streets, think like I got a gun in my hand
|
'cause hatin is the nature of man
|
(Sometimes I wanna, stop the cameras, just pop the hammer
|
Box the innocent bystander and his man up)
|
I walk these streets, think like I got a gun in my hand
|
It's alright if you don't understand
|
Just stay outta my waaaay
|
|
[Verse 2: Maino]
|
MAINOOOOO~!
|
Yo, one for my comrades, two for my family
|
Three for the day that I run into my enemies
|
We gon' make a movie, the world gon' remember me
|
I survived it all dawg, what the hell you tellin me?
|
I remember days when, I was young and aidin
|
Cuttin class, chasin ass, couldn't pass grades and
|
Chillin on the block then, listenin to Rakim
|
Back of his album filled up with Killer Ben
|
Supreme Magnetic and I wasn't athletic
|
But I ran around with the Tre-8 Magnetic
|
Money on my mind, crack vials in my Levi's
|
Been a dog since I had the cream colored Filas (Hahahah!)
|
Yeah, yeah, we fly, seen it all with these eyes
|
Gunplay and drugs if you put my mind on rewind
|
Fast forward my life, ya boy done MADE IT!
|
If I could do it over, I wouldn't CHANGED IT!
|
|
[Chorus]
|
|
[Verse 3: Rakim]
|
(Ay, good lookin out my dude)
|
Aiyyo Maino, it's the same ol' same ol'
|
Don't matter if you in it for the fame or you lay low
|
Haters gon' hate but, it's okay though (Keep doin what you ddo)
|
The angle is make sure the payroll stay swoll
|
Big faces, cake dough and di-nay-ros
|
Rubels, yen yang, euros and pesos
|
Seven digit figures, tryna make more zay-ros
|
Spray holes in whoever in the way so (Stay outta my waaaay)
|
While I count the next bundle (that's right)
|
"All means necessary, " Malcolm X hustle
|
A threat yet humble, about to flex muscle
|
Get a big amount then I'm in and out the next jungle
|
'Cause every other day, I'm in another state
|
It's like I cross the thin line between love and hate
|
But I gotta eat, gotta get another plate
|
So I'm on my cake walk for the cake
|
|
[Chorus]
|
|
Just stay outta my waaaay...
|
(It's what they do...)
|
Just stay outta my waaaay...
|
|
-----------------
|
Walk These Streets
|
| Rakim |
