paroles de chanson Right Back at You (feat. Ghostface Killah, Raekwon & Big Noyd) - Mobb Deep , Big Noyd , Ghostface Killah , Raekwon

Now, ′94 to '95, innocent without crime
(Drop that shit) Yeah, yeah, check it out
Now run for your life, or you wanna get your heat, whatever
We can die together
As long as I send your maggot ass to the essence
I don′t give a fuck about my presence
I'm lost in the blocks of hate and can't wait
For the next crab nigga to step and meet fate
I′m lethal when I see you, there is no sequel
24-7, mac 11 is my people
So why you wanna end your little life like this?
′Cause now you've bumped heads with kids that′s lifeless
I live by the day only if I survive
The last night, damn right, I ain't tryna fight
We can settle this like some grown men on the concrete floor
My slugs will put a stop to your hardcore
Ways of action, I grab the gat, then
Ain′t no turning back when I start blastin'
Pick up the handle and insert the potion
Cock the shit back in a calm like motion
No signs of anger or fear ′cause you the one in danger
Never share your plans with a stranger, word is bond
I put the drop on you kid, now I got you
You got the heart to get busy without your crew?
Let's get it on nigga, do what we gotta do
You buckin' me, I′m buckin′ right back at you
I put the drop on you kid, now I got you
You got the heart to get busy without your crew?
Let's get it on nigga, do what we gotta do
You buckin′ me, I'm buckin′ right back at you
Check it out, check it out, check it out now
Check it out, check it out, check it out now
Check it out, check it out, check it out now
Fuck where you're at kid, it′s where you're from
'Cause where I′m from, niggas pack nothin′ but the big guns
Around my way, niggas don't got remorse for out-of-towners
Come through fronting and get stuffed with the three-pounder
The loud sounder, ear ringer
And I′ma point the finger, on all you wannabe gun slingers
You got a real ice grill but are you really real?
Step to the hill and I'ma test your gun skills
′Cause real niggas don't try to profile
You just a chump who needs to get drunk to buckwild
But swing that bullshit this way
And I′ma make your visit to the Bridge a motherfucking short stay
Queensbridge, that's where I'm from
The place where stars are born and phony rappers get done
Six blocks and you might not make it through
What you gonna do when my whole crew is blazing at you?
With macs and tecs to lend to get your dome crush
You thought that you could come around my way and beef, stupid fuck?
What the hell you smoking? What the fuck possessed you?
To come out your face, now I have to wet you
Throw on my Timbs, black mask and black serpent
Twist a nigga cap, then jump in the J-30, ′cause I-
I put the drop on you kid, now I got you
You got the heart to get busy without your crew?
Let′s get it on nigga, do what we gotta do
You buckin' me, I′m buckin' right back at you
Who′s the richest nigga in the project, who got it locked
Rocking Convertibles, drop tops and mad hot
Peace to that whiz kid and players on his team
Who's organized, all eyeballs is on C.R.E.A.M.
And your whole clique got nothin′ but raw shit
Whip after whip, stay flashing your dick on tricks
Your whole crew's ravishing, team's untouchable
In the jungle, banging Nas, Mobb Deep and Wu
There′s money out there, guns catch crumbs, those are your sons
Jums is in the mailboxes, bitches holding your guns
You know what′s out there, thousands of gram, wrapped in Saran
Sealed tight, keep the freshness, that's how we expand
Masked Avenger, drop your gun, son, now surrender
Get ninjaed on the island, plus the Bridge, boy remember
My little thug′s selling drugs and he's struggling
The game got him bugging, I tried to tell him slow down cousin
But he vexed and niggas getting wet up in the projects
But with no doubt, shorties out for his respect
But is his brain insane from the lye?
From smoking that 118 tiny tye
Why? A nigga just died last week
As he swore he was grown and he′s a thug in the street
But it's like that, my crew pump cracks and we pack mac
His eyes is wild with the rezzy monkey on his back
But I′m stressed and he need to be blessed
With a firepack, don't even go there 'cause it ain′t like that
Slow down baby, he said, what, you tryna play me?
You must be crazy, pulled out the heat and almost blazed me
Then he was Swayze, the shot must′ve dazed me
Thug selling drugs, busting slugs, but he ain't crazy