[Verse 1: Pusha T] The devil is a lie You ain't broke bread 'till you taste the devil's pie They say his laugh sounds like an angel when he cries What better camouflage when the halo's your disguise Them wings don't fly Your traitor is your neighbor At your front porch, and he's handing you your paper Bathrobe on, but the sword's underneath And he wanna see your blood as it pours in the street It's the mark of the beast The meek shall inherit the Earth The weak shall inherit the dirt You each should have perished at birth Still born or aborted Every street tax gotta come with an audit Either your life, or your loved ones Straight razor or a snub-gun From the village where the thugs from Same corner that you copping all your drugs from He a hero, but he unsung I'm the one
[Verse 2: Raekwon] I'm the one Ayo homie, the chambers is 36, they new and improved Now make a move These guns whistle, sizzle up dudes who got big mouths, no power Run in the bank with no dollars, got the nerve to switch crews We better than the rest of 'em, my guess is the estrogen And all the money we got, we move like the Mexicans A cartel, compound, a carvel, a large scale in Scarsdale I fuck with golf now, Shala is ill Yeah, the coke is fresh, straight out of Bermuda yo Or chilling on a beach in Boca Chica with tuna Salads and palaces, yo, we smoke out them chalices Passing of the balances of bread to the Island since 1984, the blow was just more Then we would come trough with rifles rocking Nike boots and war A real nigga's invention that came from a henchman Who blew up, now throw the Wu up, that's my redemption
[Bridge: Pusha T] Drug dealer, been that nigga half my life Drug dealer, been that nigga half my life You niggas talking, but you ain't never seen 'em Imagine being first name basis with the kingpin
[Verse 3: Joell Ortiz] God, I was Lucifer's neighbor You wouldn't believe some of the things these people do for this paper Moving with the lasers under Rugers Make a move, you make the papers, lose lose situation Sweat or blood, you get to choose what you bathe in The chemists cookwork The runners; footwork The custies took work The soldiers put work in On any of the motherfuckers who fucked up good work Bosses tell 'em: 'Good work' That's just how the hood work Northface bubble with, eight bundles under it Gold front upper-lip smile while I was hugging it I lied, I wasn't Lucifer's neighbor, he who I'm fucking with My moms threw that snow in her nose, but I would hustle it Champ hoodie, Mongoose with the pegs Clap your stoop up, hit moms duke in her legs That's beef nigga, y'all ain't street niggas Y'all peep niggas, write it down and try to be niggas Fucking everything, neck heavy swing Second hand swepped across that pretty Breitling In that Nissan, Honda, Chevy thing peddling Whatever bring 'fetti in, steadily I fed my whole team
[Bridge]
[Verse 4: Pusha T] In this art of war, my pen stroke is Picasso Niggas get the picture I ain't got to paint the nostrils You know my origins is over when Fat black bitch singing over organs Die for a dollar, pride you don't swallow You save that for the one you buying red bottoms Yuugh! That's the price you gotta pay for it All's fair in love and war, she masquerade for it Woo! Jack-O-Lantern Push Trick or treat, fuck your shit, I earned it off the books Now listen to me vent When you sitting watch, it's like the tires being spent Shots from everywhere, but they never make a dent Knight in shining armor Mistake me for the villain cause my vengeance is your karma Yeah, fear is knowing you're a goner This music to my soul, cause it's death before dishonor Gone
[Verse 5: Danny Brown] Check! Got the tongue of a pimp, raised by a dirty preacher That used the church money to cop a new Beamer Got the heart of a child raised by a prostitute That bought his momma the rubbers when a John came through It’s the microphone Methadone Greatest ever etched in stone You ain’t getting pussy like your prom date had a chaperone Popping pills got a nigga brain like a labyrinth Called the ho on purpose but I got the brain on accident Nigga I’m your majesty, show up with a bag of weed Rolled a blunt so perfect, thought it came up out a factory My manuscript leave a man ripped of all his dreams The insomniac with nightmares in sixteens I’m a wet dream's, Dry sense of humor Travel in class like a high school rumor No one really cares if you embarrass us with style Cuz when it comes to them raps you been letting us down So tell em why your mad son Gotta get it off your chest Let em know how you feel son You gotta say what you say It don’t matter, they gonna say a nigga hating anywayTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
