lirik lagu the tombs – knowledge the pirate & big ghost ltd
[verse 1]
n*ggas be talkin’ sl!ck until them gangstas slide up and start poppin’ out (f*ck them n*ggas, i ain’t playin’ them n*ggas, son, word, son, what up now, boy?)
we pull up with pistols, some sh*t is poppin’ off
that’s when them n*ggas start coppin’ plea
shot his man in the head, he hit the ground, he smoke the sh*t all on his dungarees (bow, d*mn, that n*gga stankin’, son)
he ran off with some work, plus he took the cheese
that’s why a couple crews we used to feed got hit by the d’s
my man was facin’ fifteen years so he took a plea
the judge the gave ’em eight, so in six years i can see my flea
i don’t need a crystal ball to speak prophecy
stocks in real estatе, life is a game of monopoly
your man got shot, becausе he out here doin’ f*ckery
he robbed, a couple drugs bust, took the wrong n*gga jewlery
now they lightin’ candles, cryin’ at the n*gga’s eulogy
talkin’ ’bout how cool he used to be
ayo, truthfully a lot of n*ggas fell behind that foolery
gun shots that woke up a whole community (community)
i do this for my n*ggas from broadway to trenton, clinton
maximum state prison, from rikers island to saint*quentin (yo, welcome home, my n*ggas)
most of my n*ggas turned victim of the system
after thirty*five years, spent twenty years of they life in prison
some of my n*ggas made it out of this recession
cookin’ cocaine in the kitchen, as a adolescent
hand on our weapon, rolex on our arm, show some respect, kid
‘fore we hop out that van and sh*t get hectic, yo
[interlude]
yo, what up now, n*gga? (know what it is)
pay that f*ckin’ money you owe, n*gga, f*ck you though it was, yeah
just put the money in a f*ckin’ bag, son
[verse 2]
you dumb ass n*ggas run off on the plug
we get that work, bring it back to the projects, they show love (yeah, that’s for you right there, son)
ten pounds of gelato broken down in fifties and dubs
got the word from my son, he said, “in two days it’d be done”
lace up your air max 95’s, we ’bouta have a good run
all my n*ggas is outside with they hands on they guns
lit up a dutch, inhale some smoke in my lungs (ayo, pass that, g)
i’m waitin’ on a few bricks of that fishscale to come
(if you want to taste it, my n*gga, go ‘head, take a taste, boy
it’s nothin’, that’s that a1 sh*t right there)
he took a taste on his tongue, his whole face went numb
pass me the suitcase and paid it, son
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