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from Shyheim - The Lost Generation (1996)
(trigger tha gambler)
There a toker, under the numb, scumb looker Get the gatherin, big willy, me, thug rich and booker The gun to gun, face off, street smart nigga That I'm ready to tear your numbers right off the burners To throw the d-8 trace off, ruckus click cause the mystery Sellin, which, cap killin, go down in history You dissin me, bell to releact the combat I sit back, when niggaz throw raps I be like, "where your are at" (rubbabandz) It's a leaky-leak world and I don't give a f**k All I wanna do is puff that purple stuff The sun ain't never shine on my block It's like a permanent eclipse The only light is gun spark Fightin on the premissis, that you want to be yours Catch your on the stairs, your floor's eight But, you won't make it past four I'm sick and tired of niggaz actin high fashional Flashin, wackin and not reactin (smoothe da hustler) Yall niggaz, know what time it is Leavin niggaz withour no watches When I drop this shit about hustlin Yall niggaz know, who rhyme it is You gettin the head from bathroom To book-book to rap-rap to tracks-tracks to wax-wax When starts toss the headphone The dead zone, mc's get done since The grittiest square root Equals a dead mother f**ker in my circumference The shell maxed, well matched, dressed in black leather To come through buildin for buildin Jack dead for crime cheddar (shyheim) All day, I dream about guns, money, cars and bitches Thirsty niggaz, who want my riches I got somethin for em, in '96, you gotta be trife or die That's how it is in the streets of s.i., in God we trust the lye Niggaz I run with, their mentality is f**k it And heated with a vest, gun cocked ready to buck shit Altough they do, to makin crack and dope sales And jiggy-jigg won't stop us from gettin the dough, for real (trigger) money, clips and fat stacks make the world go round (d.v.) what makes the world go round (rubba) alcohol and marijuana makes the world go round (d.v.) what makes the world go round (smoothe) cocaine, lactose and boilin water makes the world go round (d.v.) what makes the world go round (shyheim) big guns, money and pussy makes the world go round (d.v.) what makes the world go round, round (rubbabandz) Shaolin, stapleton born and raised The battlegrounds is where we spend most of our days I lick a shot for niggaz slingin cooked up rocks To make the prophet, so all y'all crap niggaz need to stop it I see my peeps transform like autobots Shootin at missed, prime ass niggaz, who stop us from makin figgaz We can't be eliminated, the world wil be contaminated G.p. players activated (d.v. alias khrist) Shot twenty shells, twenty heads fell Twenty bodies rapped, twenty churches rung death bells The bitch f**ker, the thug cop chucker The glock under my belt, tucker, the wild mother f**ker My lifestyles, maxin, taxin, a pistol wipin Girl come here, bitch slapped and carjackin Cap carrier, contract arrangin, twenty-thousand dollar hit Body, the scenic (shyheim) Bet your life nigga on two red and one green dice For fifty cents, nickels or get nice and pay the price A hot rolex with ice, fit around my wrist A gorilla in the mist, with a four fifth, kill you and your bitch Get you open like bullet wounds, deadly like toxic fumes Get my peoples ? ? ? through all the ballons Wack rappers and listeners, this for all yall Can't follow, put my records out on virgin Cause my styles be sellin (smoothe da hustler) Brooklyn and shaolin puttin the hurtin in front of the curtain Hookin and crookin, I'm takin back uptown, back downtown like fulton I house the best, when I be rappin, I be packin So niggaz in clubs, fire marshalls got me on house arrest Front, I caution it, I bless so many mics After I die, niggaz'll cut my hand off and auction it Nineteen seventy-seven, february eighth This little nigga be packin big, but I ain't got faith to hustle it (rubba) thugs, slugs and drugs make the world go round (d.v.) what makes the world go round (trigger) hand in pistol, pull out the gristle makes the world go round (d.v.) what makes the world go round (shyheim) murderers and carjackers make the world go round (d.v.) what makes the world go round (smoothe) state to state, pushin weight make the world go round (d.v.) what makes the world go round, tound, round, round, round (d.v. alias khrist) Brooklyn, brownsville makes the world go round Shaolin, stapleton makes the world go round G.p. wu makes the world go round D.r. period makes the world go round D.v. alias khrist makes the world go round I said the ruckus makes the world go round Mr. trigger makes the world go round Smoothe da hustler, definitely makes the world go round Shyheim makes the world go round Rubbabandz makes the world go round The nexx level click makes the world go round It be the crew that makes the world go round It be the crew, it be the crew that makes the world go round It be the crew, it be the crew makes the world go round |
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from Shyheim - The Lost Generation (1996)
Intro: RZA, Raekwon
Yo *echoes* Older cats *echoes* Yo *echoes* Whassup Rae? What's going on Son? Whattup dude? Yeah, I ain't see y'all cats in a long time Check it, yo Y'all better be on that shit too Older cats max with young godz who got the guns KnowhatI'msayin son? Out of town Big Willie niggaz best to run Y'all the little y'all the youth coming up Or get stung by the killer bee stinga from the slums KnowhatI'msayin son? Yo son Of the young Shaolin Monks, chickenheads will get done You the first man, you go first son Verse One: Shyheim I'm mobb deep, in cherry Cherokees I forever be on some thug shit, runnin wild through New York City Bustin guns rockin jew-els that shine like sun Stapleton is where I'm from And been down for years stayed on point like stairs (yeah, word up) 'cause the jealous motherf**kers want to end my career I never feared, the ghetto is hell, but I learned ta Keep my mouth shut and pack a nickel-plated burner And squeeze, if I get front on my nine millimi will have my enemies, behind trees Niggaz that think they live 'cause they puff a little lye Pack a bullshit, twenty-five, nah don't think they'll kill us Chorus: RZA, with Rae Older cats mack, roll with young godz that got the guns You right about that kid Out of town Big Willie niggaz best to run Now yo y'all just keep everything moving you know Or get stung by the killer bee stinga from the slums The beat is sounding like Star Trek Of the young Shaolin Monks, taking heads, with the tongue So yo, youknowhatI'msayin Son? Verse Two: Madman Yo, deep in the ocean of the Atlantic, here comes the killa falcon I meditate then swing with the force of mountains Brain cells is able to be bi-debatable When I think it's hazardous to your ozone layer A pre-meditated killer plan so kill the Mayor, my silencer causes niggaz to hush, then I rush, like Manchus who guard jewels and collect, Cash Rules with heavy jewels I live by name and cut veins Burning bodies into flames Between my anger, I lock down every chamber Hillside strangeler, a nigga with a mask like Lone Ranger Rap poetic is injected into the brain athletic Build off of rhymin calisthetics I'm determined, I raise a army like Hitler done Germans and become the Allied commander, my enemies is catching on camera They seek death, I begin to torture them (calm down kid take your time) By giving butterfly stitches, bear witness as I hang with Jehovah's Witnesses Chorus: RZA Older cats max with young godz that got the guns Out of town Big Willie niggaz best to run Or get stung, by the killa bee stinga from the slums From the young Shaolin Monks, taking heads with the tongue Verse Three: Rubbabandz Yo, yo, this is manslaughter, so what you wanna do Last year, you ran for the border with your crew I flip, stacks, all the, time when I rhyme Libra is my sign, and can't stand swine When I dine, the automatic weapon Got niggaz steppin, in the opposite direction My jurisdiction, is off grounds to you clowns My proposition, meaning you go round for round Straight up and down, I broke the sound barrier Scarier, than a tight skirt wrapped around a transvestite The grammar, hype, nigga check your stacks Or you'll be rhyming with a broke back Niggaz talk about they rollin deep up in here The only way you roll is if you in a wheelchair Chorus: Raekwon, RZA Older... Yo, y'all calm down man calm down calm down Yeah, and yo Now yo, youknowhatI'msayin? I wanna tell y'all Y'all up under the restrictions of the Wu camp Aiyyo Rae, you got Killa Sin YouknowhatI'msayin? Madman, Shyheim the Rugged Child So just take your time and handle life as it comes Motherf**kin Rubbabandz, the young godz comin through Cause the real nigga gonna know what they gotta do Showin and provin youknowhatI'msayin? Shaolin forever Verse Four: Killa Sin Yo, may all the bullshit cease, increase the war f**k the peace Make shit hot like rockin tube socks at Jones Beach in the summer, number one gunner run for cover Keep em steppin with more Lethal Weapons than Danny Gloves I cock back, action packed raps and gats niggaz trade mats for prats people react, to RZA sharp tracks Another day nother body dropped you better keep your shottie cocked for actin snotty Hobbes catch karate chops 'cause Wu-Tang live, forever and a day you better pray for better ways to get away when my Beretta spray We never play with commercialism The hardcore rhythm give em more hell than an exorcism My terrordome be a clever poem let it be known I'm packin chrome and rollin phatter than eleven bones My crew's sicker than that AIDS shit While others get played quick, cause we be making hits through the grave sift My right hand man, myself and the Clan Gun and mic stands reverses help me see my first a hundred grand And to my Physical one love power crazy real for all them carbon copy niggaz lurkin in the rap deal Chorus: RZA Older cats max, the young godz yo they got the guns Out of town Big Willie niggaz best to run Or get stung by the killa bee stinga from the slum Come the young Shaolin Monks, taking heads with the tongue Older cats max, young godz got the guns Out of town niggaz best to run Yo, older cats mack, the young godz, check it out Yo, older cats mack, the young godz, they got the guns Out of town Big Willie niggaz best to run Or get stung by the killa bee stinga from the slum From the young Shaolin Monks, takin heads with the tongue From the slum comes the young Shaolin Monks, takin heads with the tongue Older cats mack, but young godz got the guns Out of town Big Willie niggaz best to run Or get stung Killa bee stinga from the slum, come the young Shaolin Monks taking heads with the tongue Older cats max, but young godz they got the guns Out of town Big Willie niggaz best to run Aiyyo stop it Older cats max but young godz they got the guns Out of town Big Willie niggaz best to run Or get stung by the killa bee stinga from the slum From the young Shaolin Monks taking heads with the tongue Young Shaolin Monks taking heads with the tongue Older cats max but young godz got the guns Out of town Big Willie niggaz best to run Or get stung... |
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