"You know we gonna ill" --]scratched
What...set it off what
My n***a Prim
Black Poet
[Verse 1]
f** the dumb sh**, n***as want drama
You know who to come kid, the cappital P the o-et
Smash motherf**ers up, crush motherf**ers up
Leave your body in the closet for a motherf**ing month
n***as know my flow's relentless I said it I ment this
n***as get high, b**hes get bent
Everybody knows Poet's on some hood sh**
I wake every thug around the world tryin' to get rich
If you're doing your thing then slinging your thing
You know and I know n***a better bang
Watch them hoes, watch them snakes
Real n***as in the game, f**in' with cakes
Real n***as in the game knows what it takes
And real n***as let you know what's real and fake
Like my n***a Primo, he reach stile to me yo
Whereever he goes, I go, se, he me amigo
And we gonna ill
[Hook: scratching by DJ Premier]
"You know we gonna ill" 2X
"With love to thugs that died in the field
So many names we don't got room to spit them"
"This ain't a game n***a"
"You know we gonna ill" 3X
[Verse 2]
What, what, aha, yeah, yeah
I sat back I watch ya n***as and clacked ya n***as
Played you on my box since I put rocks and figures
Got it through this life, d** chop my sh**, n***a
Lyrics gotta throw blood k** ya weak n***as
Represent, all thugs and all money getters
I live some green and blings and sh** that glitters
And plus, the word on the street is
I hotter then 2 blaze of 9 millimetres
You can't belive this
A&R's, they pullin out their heads
They get fierd cause they havd a n***a right there
CEO's screaming "why the f** yu didn't sign 'em?"
"He brought in a mansion and a hot boy diamands"
Should have gave me the world, stupid f**
Look how I'm rhymin', wildin', calmin', poundin', grindin'
I ain't lyin'
Mad n***as try with me, die with me
Belive it n***a, you don't wanna have to colide with me
We gonna ill
[Hook]
[Verse 3]
Yo, got it together now, Mo' to them now
Rest in peace pops, and my moms, I can't let it down
Queensbridge representative, style's unlimeted
Hot shots, hot rocks, I'm sendin' it
Who else you know get flow like Po'
For the love of this sh**, and not the dough
I write my own rhymes cause I like this sh** to d**h
n***as don't got respect, they just writin' the ceques
I might sell 10 mill if I learned some stacks
And bleach my skin and front like I'm from the projects
But all I can be is me, and catch wreck
As far as the eye can see, my whole set
Screwball gang-stars, comin' in planes and cars
Moet bottles with your brains on the ??? at the bar
From now on, sh** is gettin more real
My n***as in QB, I'm leaving you to heal
Cause I'm off the wall and I'm Illmaticly ill
[Hook]
Female singer:(X2)
You know and I know, sh** is real
Poet and Primo, them n***as gon' ill
The whole industry's about, blacks and feal
Poet and Primo, them n***as gon' ill
You know, I know, we gonna ill (X2)
We're gonna ill...