Popa Wu: How it Goes

(Intro: La the Darkman)
Yo, yo, yo (5X)
Yeah, yeah, La the Darkman
8th Wonder, top of the world, nigga
Yeah, sing sing, peach playin ass niggas
Killas, yeah
Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh
Uh huh, yeah

(Chorus: La the Darkman)
In these wild ghetto streets, this is how it goes
Smoke La, pack guns, plot up in my foes
And Range Rovs, rockin jewels, artica folds
2000, it's still throw holes in clothes

(La the Darkman)
You niggas lame, real game, recognize game
Some get hed, my dick long, I get brain
When I was broke, smoke weed on the train
Now puff in the GS4, dead float like a plane
Platinum watch and platinum chain
Four pound plastic glock, how dogs get trained
Jackets get stained, shirts get stained, jewels get stained
By a murderer, squeazin the flame, screamin for fame
Tombstones engrave ya name at ya funeral in rain
Old folks say cracks the blame, while they act insane
And pack the game, cock and aim, blow out ya brain
Jump in the Range, back to the grain, it's Wu-Tang
Ain't shit change, but gettin rich, bitch to bitch
Whips to switch, new outfits for new out hits
I'm raw like no condom, fuckin a whore
On some real shit, takin ya faggots to war
Back in S.O.'s, how we smack on dress holds
At The Tunnel, givin buck 50 in bundles
It's 2000, no more wowzin, no more browsin
My killas blood thirsty outta project housing
The body kid, shotty kids, red dotted kids
My crew from BK, wild out like Gotti Kid
Fuck Guliani bids, and consequences
I'm hoppin fences, jumped them bences
D.T.'s missin in these trenches
I wear all black, black gats
Only thing white on me, dunn, is my teeth and my crack
My money's green, my weed's real green, my Lex is green
I won't wait, on a mic or a triple beam
My heart like Spike Lee tell me "Do The Right Thing"
Nowaday that mean pullin the thing to take cream
Pussy, I'm real, from Bronxville to Brownsville
Queens, to Manhattan, L.I. back to Staten
I murder you...

(Chorus 2X)

(La the Darkman)
For the new millenium, I wanna be pushin a new Millenium
With bricks in the stash, for safety, about ten of them
My bitches mad femenime, suckin dick like Kim and 'em
Take 'em to the condo, constantly bended them
I'm rusty, for faggot niggas that wanna bust me
Trust me, I only run with wolves, you can't touch me
Plus me, knowledge I got, just can't explain
Street value, worth 50 pounds of cocaine
I reign like a bullet comin from John Wayne
Black male, society failed to obtain
I got big balls, big brains, big trucks, big chains
My wounds paint a picture, the cassette's the frame
I'm iller than one nigga tryin to rob a whole train
Look at America thru the eyes of Saddam Hussein
If a slut wanna fuck, me and my niggas, weren't trainin
It's 2000, but in the hood, shit's the same, nigga

(Chorus 2X)

(Outro: La the Darkman)
Trapacanti, the streets for real
Trapacanti, Trapacanti
La Trapacanti