[Intro Skit]
|
Someday I'm gonna be walkin down the streets,
|
mindin my own business.. and BAM!!
|
I'm gon' be shot by some pig who's gonna SWEAR
|
that it was a mistake.
|
I accept that as a part of my destiny!
|
|
[*Si es mi destino morir en la calle como un perro! Hahaha*]
|
|
[Raekwon the Chef]
|
Whattup kid? That's right..
|
Yo.. aiyyo.. aiyyo..
|
|
[Chorus: Raekwon]
|
Aiyyo let my niggas live
|
We show and prove get paper, catch me in the caper on shrooms yo
|
Let my niggas live
|
We real niggas that's God-body, challenge anything, make major moves
|
Let my niggas live
|
We giants, live off the land lions, post with iron, no pryin rules
|
Let my niggas live; aiyyo let my niggas live
|
Handle your bid and kill no kids
|
|
[Raekwon the Chef]
|
Millionaire feat, whole family eat; yo, y'all niggas is weak
|
Got a bird beak, chirp chirp speak
|
Kids that's rich that'll, run in your bitch and by the third week
|
Yo mark my word, me and my herb speak
|
That's that fire move like Schwinns yo
|
Invisible pens that write light, leave blends
|
Hit with the JF Kennedy shot
|
Smash with the Acapulco rifle got got
|
Bolt off, but got clocked
|
Legendary here, custom made it, shit bladed, word up
|
Design your alphabet, reps get graded
|
We in get-high saloons, big bag of shrooms, arm's length
|
Home of Allah's ten big rooms
|
So what we up in here, modelin large with rigorous moves
|
Exotic Gods bust my hammer at frauds
|
Call him a live merchant, dressed in all red, that's right y'all
|
Gucci jumper X-5, gettin more head
|
|
[Chorus]
|
|
[Nas]
|
I scream at the mirror, curse, askin God, "Why me?"
|
Run in the black church, gun in my hand, y'all try me
|
I'm God-son, son of man, son of Marcus Garvey
|
Rastafari irie, Ha-ile Selassie
|
Police'll try to break us, but the streets raised us
|
It takes more than metal bars, we destined for ours
|
I hear murder plans from dopefiends, with elephant hands
|
Snots in they nostril, the blocks is hostile
|
There's no pots to piss in, glocks is spittin
|
Rocks cookin underground bodies stiffin, cops look at bird shit
|
Drop on the window pane, the oxygen is cocaine
|
It drove lots of men to die with no name
|
I been on boats, nut down throats, pee on bitches who famous
|
Pretty dick, puttin stitches in they anus
|
I'm the animal that Hugh Heffner created
|
The only nigga Sade dated, the most hated, Nas nigga
|
|
[Chorus]
|
|
[Inspectah Deck]
|
Roughneck reppin the set, bang 'em twice in the neck
|
C.O. flip and jerk the whole yard rec
|
Block vets, pop barettas glocks and tecs
|
You're no threat, gun talk, the language of the project
|
Checkin shorty with the +Black Tail+ stance, leapord pants
|
Yellin fuck her man, makin killings off her lap dance
|
Plus the young guns runnin the slums, funds is major
|
Drugged out, got you huntin for crumbs stuck to the razor
|
Semi-autos roar in the building hall
|
Symptoms of bloodsport, the slugs are still in wall
|
Call it a New York state of mind, gotta take mine
|
In the daytime, the Jakes'll hit ya forty-one times
|
So I live by the sword and obey hood laws
|
Make my team click like high heels on wood floors
|
|
[Chorus]
|
|
-----------------
|
Let My Niggas Live
|
(featuring Nas) |