Aw yeah, word up, word to mother. Here comes G. Rap with another one y'all.
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We going to swing it like this...
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I'm right in front of my front steps thinking of a plan
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Looking like Raggedy Ann, no dough in hand kicking a can
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Thinking of a plot to pull some bank in
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Because I'm dead and stinking
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Soles on my shoes winking, t-shirt is shrinking
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Soon I see some ties and my eyes open wide quick
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Who's that with you, chick? Bill Blass my sidekick
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What's up, black? Give his hand a smack
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Up pulls a Cadillac, yo baby we'll be back
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Jumped right on inside, not too many people saw us
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Thinking about who gotta get robbed because the mob got a job for us
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The drove us down to the sober section
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Of town where the clowns don't be paying for protection
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The want us to send a message to Jimmy the bartender
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Lend a friend the money next you're ripping off his car fenders
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He's coming up short cause he snorts
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Coke, dope, nope, and hope he don't get caught
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He owes some Benjamin Franklins, every last bit of em
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But Jimmy's pockets are empty, so now we gotta get rid of him
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But Jimmy's wife is with him and they don't want to involve her
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Hopped out the back seat they gave me a revolver
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Blass, you distract him while I go and whack him
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Entered through the back side of the bar and then attacked him
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He's screaming for his life, reaching for his wife
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Shot him in the back of the head and shanked him with a knife
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And that goes for anybody who's gotta pay they dues
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You lose, cause I got the Ill Street Blues
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Chorus:
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You lose, cause I got the Ill Street Blues (repeat 4x)
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Suckers I clobber, because my town is full of cops and robbers
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You're not promised tomorrow in this Little Shop of Horrors
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So I got to get with the business of hit quick
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Moneygrip's pocket's looking thick so I stick Slick
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Hold it right here, hands in the air, I know you got the loot
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Or better yet, face down on the ground, empty your pockets troop
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Hit the deck I got the Tech right on your neck
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And I expect to make a buck to heck with a traveller's check
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But if a vic' tries to choke me
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I'll have to smoke him like I'm Smokey the Bear, so okie dokie
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Goodbye, or bon voyage, have a good journey
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Don't even try begging for your life, that don't concern me
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So to the next weasel that freezes
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Your begging and your pleases only getting your closer to meeting Jesus
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Yeah, I shake a schmuck just to make a buck
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Then I break a duck and if the duck gotta get bucked then I don't give a fuck
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Hyper as a sniper piping niggas like a plumber
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Cold vicking and sticking up the ones that run the numbers
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Or even a bigger score, the lady in the liquor store
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Go inside and kick in the door, pull her then I'm stickin her for
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Money or your life, honey hurry and choose
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You lose, because I got the Ill Street Blues
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Chorus
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Extra extra read all about it in the papers
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The boss tried to rape us, so we tossed him off the skyscraper
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Because he pulled some other people to try and hit us
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Get us, but none of them did us, he must be trying to kid us
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But that's dead, I'll thank God in the red, 'cross the bread borders
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So nobody can short us, he fled down to headquarters
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Ready to put some work in, we're not a lazy crew, we'll do a job or two
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But yo, the man can't even stick me with some Crazy Glue
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Ready to tore him even more because she saw him
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We took out all the lookouts in the front and kicked his door in
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What's up snake, why'd you violate?
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Because I'm a hossa (What's that?)
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Yo, that's a pig that don't fly straight
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Getting ready to jab him, I grabbed him by the necktie
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Homie tried to get fly, and swing I gave him a decked eye
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You know the evil that men do, hell is where the men go
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We snatched him by his hands and feet and threw him out the window
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Up, up, and away cause I don't play, clown
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Buck, buck, buck, take that with you on the way down
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I'm hoping you got springs and wings on your shoes
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But you lose, because I got the Ill Street Blues
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Chorus
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Ill Street Blues
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Kool G. Rap and DJ Polo |