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lirik lagu rhyme or crime – mr. ill

(ant diddley dog)
it’s rhyme or crime, i done made up my mind it’s time to climb
and combine so i went to design a rhyme and find my nine
and hit the grind, but you blind, you don’t understand the story (and f*ck the fame and glory)
but the money’s mandatory
from december to november, comprehend and just remember
drinking gin and making ends is the only trends on my agenda
then i say some raps, get my sh*t and spray some caps
see what i did was make the scratch, hit the crib and baked a batch
i know you smoke the yola, i’m from oakland, california
if you want the coca*cola, i’ll be posted on that corner
and if (5*0 tries to giznatch) one cop? that’s a mismatch!
he better go back and dispatch, he ain’t finna sn*tch this batch
get back i’m so clean, money is like a protein
and a dope fiend on a basepipe, may smoke green on a late night
so i get my cash quick, b*st*rds, i blast sh*t
even when i’m half lit, i’m fast quick when task hit
but i’m passed it, i put away the sack of crack
now i’m throwing raps on tracks
back to back, action packed, that’s a fact
the sh*ts clean, taking this to the extreme
been doing these get rich quick schemes since fifteen
but the sh*t seems like big dreams
i mean i’m *n*lyzing, it’s antagonizing
fantasizing while the next man is rising
but you ain’t realizing, you ain’t have to struggle softy
you just wanna bubble off me, tryna floss and double cross me
so (i stay away from these busters)
and (i spray and play with the hustlers)
(stay playing these suckers, cause ain’t no way they can touch us)
and i’m down to drop whenever
and i don’t f*ck with a capella
but give me a beat and i betcha i’ma get richer than rockerfeller
i could never feel despair, over the dark, the k!ller’s here
and the feeling still is there the thrill to be a millionaire
everytime we come we striving, while all y’all punks be jiving
twenty four and twenty five and all i see is money rising
(chorus)
rhyme or crime
i do whatever it takes, clever never mistakes
i gotsta get mine
you can catch me on the grind or writing rhymes
rhyme or motherf*ckin’ crime

(rappin ron)
…rhyme or motherf*ckin’ crime
i trust a nine because it’s reliable
and i realize dope got to be nice and sizeable
so i devise a pro plan, that can’t be stopped by no man
f*ck recycling coke cans, my loot must be abtuse like that b*tch roseanne
my (broke mans) make me squeeze necks for g checks
cause up in (oakland), a n*gga need tecs for respect
i was influenced the bad way, kept razors to bag yay
and right beside my bed is where that 44 mag lay
(what your dad say) i’m a lunatic done went down the wrong road
moms done turned her back cause my motherf*ckin hearts stone cold
i’ve grown bold through the years, that’s why i’m taking these chains
and n*ggas be running up, endin’ up with they faces on cameras
i’m just a menace off the hennessy, plotting on young b*tches virginity
and any enemy in my vicinity getting shot in the head like john kennedy
i deal with triple beam scales, to get more cream sales
resort to plan b then plan c if my scheme fails
i’m trying to make my jeans swell with extreme mail
i got an arsonal with a heart to flow, and a heart to work hard for more
so i hope you made preparations
for your funeral reservations
cause when i’m paper chasing i be serious like the book of revelations
never wasting time making mine
went from top ramen to generic labels
to glass tables, gold silverware, steak and wine
mistakes is fine cause that’s what i learn from
if i fall on my back, i get up, reload the strap
jump up in the lac, go get a sack and burn and earn some cash
is my passion, if you task, then i’m blasting like them 3 crazy n*ggas
say i hit the gas then i’m smashing
so if your ass can test this, i’m blasting chestses
down for mine, no matter if it’s rhyme or crime

(chorus)
rhyme or crime
i do whatever it takes, clever never mistakes
i gotsta get mine
you can catch me on the grind or writing rhymes
rhyme or motherf*ckin’ crime

- mr ill

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