(feat. Foxy Brown)
[Shyne] Uh huh
[Foxy Brown] Uh
[Shyne] Lets get it clear (Uh huh) Brooklyn Vietnam (That's right)
[Foxy Brown] Yo yo... Live from the seven-one-eight y'all; Murder City
[Shyne] Lay down n***a (It's the Ill Na Na)
Cut ya dick off put it in ya mouth y'all understand? (Let's go)
[1st Verse (Shyne)]
Ride with me as I race through ya hood
Give me a fifth that'll bang and a jury that'll hang
Pants saggin' in that Bentley wagon
Ayo that's my n***a Yacht if the mink is saggin'
Since a youth I flipped, on some ruthless sh**
Had a thing for rings, bling, Coupes and sh**
Some' bout watchin' Montana come up outta Havana
And rule this world made me wanna grab my hammer
f**in' with the Cheddar Boys
Some hustler flip girls instead of boys
Keep filthy laweys, for when the FEDs annoy us
We keep this sh** gangsta n***a from verse to chorus
And the Street Lords and Truly Yours
Drive Modena Spiders and big exhaust
Bleed for the streets love the war
My nose bleeds for weeks I love the raw
Puncture n***az when I comfort n***az
Motor City to Brooklyn Veitnam
n***a it's on till my flesh is gone
And even then I live on in gangsta form
[Chorus]
What you know about that?
Macs and cash n***a how you love that?
What you know about that?
Doin' it up livin' it up, n***a what?
What you know about that?
The gully kid put it in your skully kid, bleed n***a what it is
What you know about that?
Yacht, Cheddar Boys, Streets Lords, truly yours
[2nd Verse (Foxy Brown)]
It's the "Godfather Buried Alive"
Ayo Po it's the Ill Na Na stuntin' in 5.0
Went to Brooklyn with the Rugers out
In Flatbush and I keeps the Kiki poppin' off when the goons is out
Yall got a muthaf**in problem when my dude get out
Dutty Ay bust a shot for Shyne get the Guiness Stout
Thats my word I got the Berken pulled over up on Parkside & Nostrond
In the bu*ter scotch Rover
I'm ah bad gal style like I'm 'posta
Got his comrades in Clinton bustin' nuts on my poster
Phone check! Muthaf**a hit the yard up
Comm stop Mid-State Brooklyn n***az squad up
I'm hot steppin in the pink staline seven
I'ma stunt till BIG tell me there's a ghetto up in heaven
See through n***az take they time like a man
We don't snitch we don't sing on the stand but y'all don't hear me though..
[Chorus]
[3rd Verse (Shyne)]
Money, cars, guns, hoes
Sniff some blow and I'm good to go
Eagle inflated Federal Bureau Investigated
Most hated n***a read the affidavit
Uh racing loud pipes
big f**ing exhausts burning the turnpike
My game so tight I arouse dikes
You punk rappers should paying me publishing the way you write
And be sampling my life, every line in your rhyme
Sound like you wanna be Shyne, and I don't blame ya
Who wouldn't? Young n***a catching charges
Continental Ts parked in garages
Menages, odds is
I'm the best spittin' it, n***a I'm gettin' it
I admit it I was watching New Jack City
And f**ing with ?Goodfellas? Uncle Paul got me dying to ball
Every thing I talk about I live it
All you hear these rappers rap about I really did it
I was designed to hold nines, and grind
Step out of line put you in that white line
Rearrange ya brain ain't nothin change
You know the game jet planes and c**aine
And what I say might be held against me
I don't wanna talk, I'm the hottest n***a in New York
[Chorus]