[Benzino]
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Lord help us, my peoples bein' raped (uh)
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Deliver me from evil and I sell his devils faith
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Lets take a closer look at what's really happenin'
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He wants you to believe that it was all about rappin'
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And all I try to do is open up my niggas eyes
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It wasn't about me and Em, you gotta realise
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It's just a smokescreen, my niggas there's a bigger picture
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I want the streets to pay attention cause I'm ridin' with ya
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This credibility is what we here for
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Then why ain't the hoods sellin' units no more (tell me why)
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Labels actin' like it's good so they say so
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EPMD was always gold with no radio
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Now it's time to turn the prophesy, times up
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Marshall Mathers gotta die, rise up
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No choise, the only way we gonna turn this shit around
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Is put this little bitch in the ground
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And this so cald kings, steady going at eachother
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Do songs with the devil, while they fightin' with there brothers
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Sell a house, fuckin' pitiful, we always just some drama
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Let 'em slide through then they devide, conquer
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And every plantation got a bunch a house niggas
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D12, Shady Records just a bunch of house niggas
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Obie Trice, is for security in your front lobby
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Better call the secret service, if you gonna stop me (blaah)
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Paul Rosenberg, you fat fuckin' pig
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I'm holdin you responsable for what this bitch did (kill ya)
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Cause you call me up, try to cop or plead
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As far as I'm concerned you both gonna bleed (bitch)
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Talkin' bout he wanna fight, please
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Let's set that shit up quick so I can drop him to his knees
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You let a clown clown you, how insane is that
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You let em tonguekiss your wife when you had a gat
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How you gonna have a gun with no bullets
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Oh don't worry cause when I see you I'm gonna pul it (blaah)
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You dyed ya hear blond, I'm a make it red
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How you gonna sell records Marshall when you dead
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Motherfuck make you pay for that bullshit you talkin'
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I'm goin' hard in the streets of New York and
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Just ask Chuck how we ran 'em outta Boston
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He should have been killed left in the coffin
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And you better keep my kids out ya fuckin' mouth
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Before I put a glock in yo' mutherfuckin' mouth
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Tell Haley it ain't safe no more (nah)
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Daddy better watch yo' back at the candystore
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We Fucked up, resort to plan B
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Fuck around she and up like Jon Benet Ramsey (that's right)
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Matter of fact you better check the DNA (what)
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She probably ain't yours, and where's your wife Kim anyway
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She's on her knees somewhere suckin' 50 Cent
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I know you wishin' you were there cause you on his dick
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You dress in drag, you huggin' up on Elton John
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You closet fag, I'm a king you a little punk
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You the rap david doer the rap bibler
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The coacher stealer, niggas ain't with ya
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I'm the rap Hewey, the rap Malcolm, the rap Martin
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Don't worry I'm a finish what we started
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And everybody who wanna scream Pac's name
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You don't make a difference, you in it for the fame
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Cause if Pac was livin', he would shoot this bitch alive
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But I'm a do it for him, if the hood must survive
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You sleep with five O, you walk with the feds
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Better keep the lights on, when they tuck you into bed
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Cause I'm a get yo' silly ass, find out where you lay
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When Debbie set you up you gonna die another day
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-----------------
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Die Another Day
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| Benzino |
