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P. Diddy: Young g's

Intro: BiggieUhh, check it out, uhh*singing* I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!Fuck all that pretty shitTakin it back to the gutter for you motherfuckersNiggaz know the dealNiggaz know who the Don isLive from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest onePeep game, uhh, what, whatVerse One: Puff DaddyOut of this world like Mars, when I spit these barsCome fuck with these stars up in luxury carsWe built them radars to stay free from the copsCrucial choices to make, like A-C or the dropAre we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go brokeYour squad arti-chokeWatch your circle vanish like cigar smokeAin't no joke, when your ones don't showNigga I know, might say 'Been There Done That' like DreThrough hard work I earn the vaultPromise God to never look back or I turn to saltGot nice watches nice cars nice bitches and ringsGuess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice thingsCan't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cakeWhen you all fucked up, and can't get no breakWhen your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need itBe on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat itFuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shitThat's what I did, now they all askin for hitsNigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be knownWe still fly but seperately cause now I, charter my ownPropellers, Goodfellas, leave all them playa haters jealousBillboard charts should tell us, they can't touch usWhy niggaz bring the ruckus?Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckersChorus:Just some ghetto boysLiving in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streetsAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay aliveIt's just realityVerse Two: Jay-ZYeah, make you a deal, checkThese here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shedI try to bring you life but motherfuckers want deadSo I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the leadCause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin through your headI been rich I been poor I saved and blown breadSome say I been here before because of the way I zoneSome said, Jigga zone is like the fallin of RomeReoccuring, that he thinks like that cause he's observingWon't be known until I'm gone and niggaz study my bonesMentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's ownIn the physical, one seems, like a lost bodyIn fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God bodyBut it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening meto the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin me causeI got it locked like the late Bob MarleyPardon me y'all, the great Bob MarleySolemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's goneNiggaz that got killed in the field and all the babies bornKnow they ain't fully prepared for this New World OrderSo I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter watersYou walk em through it, you know, talk em through itKnow these beads is more than music whenever I talk to itDestined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pieHad a shorty and a girdle comin out of B-W-I (in school)I hated algebra but I loved to multiplyAnd I told my nigga Big I'd be multi before I dieIt's gonna happen whether rappin or clappin have it your wayCause if that's my dough you're trappin, I'm clappin your wayChorusVerse Three: Notorious B.I.G.Damn it feel good to see people up on itFlipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt itMy brain is haunted, with mean dreamsGS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get Richerthan Richie, quickly, niggaz wanna hit meIf they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check itMy lyrical carjack, make your brains splatHigh caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shitin my circumfrence, mad bitches, with mad lucciBulletproof vestes under they coochieSpittin my uzi, don't lose me, my trigga niggaz representDrivin dirty in J-30's gettin bentAnd to my hit hoes, my murder mommiesI be smokin trees in Belize when they find meWhile you still killin niggaz with punany, like heinyand Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virusWhile I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to chokeGot lawyers watchin lawyers so I won't go broke, now check itThem country niggaz call me Frank WhiteI'm squirtin off in my loft of course I know my shit's tightSunrise open my eyes no surpriseGot my shorty flyin in with keys taped to her thighsWith all the utensils, who hang my china thingShe half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rentalThe situation ain't accidental..What? From a, from a young G's perspective.. (repeat 2X)Chorus 2X to fade
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Inne teksty wykonawcy

  • P. Diddy Making it hard
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P. Diddy: Young g's
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