Lyrics

DJ put the needle on the record, off the record He heated the needle feigning for a exit Scheming for the next hit, living with a death wish Victim of the system, he was ignorant, except this Yes, just sniff for a lil lift, for real, drift, gotta try to feel the mist Get a twist, cuz the real world is still as fucking ill as this Vanilla Dutch, Bacardi in the fridge Ain't nobody in the crib just a party in his head Hardly dead, but he feel he living, still he isn't But he really just a victim of Philly, the chilly prison The we live in, the evils, addictions, the people, the itchin' El lead to the kitchen, where we do the whippin', packin', package pitchin' Only thing my story probably lackin' is fiction Got a gun strapped young black in the system Punch back, you get punched at, not a victim Got a mission, gotta fit in when your trying to get the clock a' tickin' Without a pot to piss in Got a nigga off his rocker, different, pull it together Hoping this liquor probably stop the visions, neva Just another way to cope, cold weather no coat So clever so broke, no hope No efforts looking down like the betta throw rope So I ca choke, shit, I don't wanna climb 'less the top is the top and it's no place higher that I can find Yeah I'm out of my mind Speech golden, rhyme like I got a cheat code in From a block cops hear shots and keep strollin' Degree holding wasn't me, rolling sprees back in 03' Knownin' the hoes be closely observin' these OGs Proceed, most these young niggas el blow trees Knowning she's out of touch if you ain't getting no cheese So squeeze gotta bust till them hoes bleed Or be at least tired of us that they don't need no beef So the burner in the drawers, though a couple bad looks el probably turn into a war A bunch of rap books, ain't no furniture at all Just a kitchen full of food And if I go broke then I'mma fix it wit a tool, I'm missin' a few screws Neva listened in them schools, on a mission just to prove That whatever niggas spittin' I was sicker then them dudes Any sentence that I use, not to mention been amused By the old school dudes, sister hit me wit some rules Slip this up in your discman, this the shit that used to soothe That them niggas used to cruise to whipping through the P's Ricky D, Big Daddy, Biz Markie Rakim Allah he probably was the god Up until '93, Nas he was coming hard Then the B.I.G. or the nigga from the pro- -jects of Marcy, all them niggas I admired Slim Shady and Pac both them niggas they was wired Peace to all the Sires I'm bout to take it higher A lil more fire, a lil more flyer And I won't stop til I retire Screeched tires got the neighbors screaming "Be Quiet!" But they asleep so they don't even see the street riots Beef and blood that's a week diet, gotta know it But if you got it in the open then you gotta blow it Gotta go wit whatever niggas handed, the weather been demanding Frail niggas failed but the better niggas planned it It'll do em well, zippin' through the grass, neva listened to them snails Gotta shake the snakes want me sitting in a cell So everyday that I wake it's to give these niggas hell, that's hell