Live At the Tunnel

This is on for real, word, word, yo
My outlet is full of powerful niggas
Electrify your tires, spark up the lye
Keep the room dark, let me feel out my high
Then slap box my ghost 'til one of us cry
Jay to the R, can niggas fuck around?
Then they better say nah, word to Allah
They all dying down, I got iron now

Run up on 'em, cock it back, then tie 'em down

If he try to move, then I gotta lie him down
From Y.O., AKA riot town
I used to buy it, but I just supply it now
Y'all used to talk, but y'all all quiet now
You know what it is to really make it, scraping
Have a lot of cars and the lot still vacant
And you won't stop speaking
'Til I leave you on the cement leaking, all hot and unpeaking

Slow down son, you're killing 'em, okay?
You can bring it to 'em every day just like Mary J
Sipping iced teas in the E and J
Partyin' 'til your very name
You're killing 'em, okay?
You can bring it to 'em every day just like Mary J
Hunnies at the bar sipping Alizé
Crew with Lox, it's your hearing, babe

I know you brailing me, baby
Yogi's in the lead, you trailing me, baby
Ph.D.'s can't compete, mines is better than yours
And we can take it to the street, my rum's redder than yours
BX where the addicts sniff the chalk outline
At clubs they shout mine, shit, it's about time
Chad and Mighty Hawk, he the predicate felon
When he make bail, he need more booty than Ellen
Who you telling? The world is mine like Esco
If not, at least a house in escrow

Turn the ghetto stars into Uncle Charles
Yogi, the Uptown mellow low-key

Understanding that my crew strictly sharp, raw
Champagne toastin' while you splittin' Clark bars
I'd rather be live at the Tunnel with Flex
Than on the corner holding bundles, next

Wise old timers see the hunger in me
And I see the same thing in niggas younger than me

Life they live, they ain't got a slice to give
In a broken down home and they priceless kids
Why wouldn't they grab the gun, heist the crib?

And they never learn shit until twice they bid
Like the world turn around funny, clown money
Everybody laugh when they have it
What about the addicts? Niggas that'll hustle for years
'Til they see the graveyard, upper deck tears
Playing spades, you in the world and you playing charades
If the war jumped off, you wouldn't touch a grenade
You wouldn't die for the cause, lie for the dogs
Niggas wanna play but never took time to pause

Learn to rewind, eject and fast forward
Try to plug 'em in, they wanna slice off your cord

Ayo, if you got the go, B, then show me
'Cause I'm walking these streets and no one know me
It's gon' change though with the ill strange flow
And 9-8 push me a black Range Rove

I keeps the real separate from the fake

If I kill yo, I'm doing so for the cake
Blast and go to a distant land
See, my gun's like a church to a Christian man
It's the code of the streets, no time to explain
Free that soul on up to the next plane
'Member the pain, two shots from the flame
'Member the bloodstains, the cold wet rain

Little light guys with your little white lies
We taking our cash and flipping big white pies
You'd rather run wild with your nine mil slam
You're watching too much Stallone and Van Damme

Ayo Lox, niggas what? What the fuck? Who up in here?
Where my crew at? Wave your shit up in the air
Now bust 'em once for the niggas who ain't with you
In jail or above, show a motherfucker love

We make cake, but to make cake, you need batter
So if you ain't kicking that shit, the beat ain't gon' matter

Lox and crew, El Familia to you
So if you want it, you can get this fifty shot pronto
Sheek that kid that spit out like tobacco
Lyrically fuck y'all, if it ain't chips, we duck y'all
Won't touch y'all if it ain't a seven-figure out
Ayo Chad, papa, where that cranberry and vodka?
Let's get blissed, spit on them niggas like this
From Y.O. to BX, y'all niggas straight CX
While we count the Benjamins and collect Gs
My baguette shine on my neck like it's Lex

Give 'em what they want, this is what they looking for
Y.O.G., Chadio and hooks of Mighty Hawk
Hitting with the static once again with butter hits
It's your crazy body in my peeps Mark Pitch
Coming with the butter, it's production Y.O.G
Grab a chicken head and let's crack the bubbly
Flows by the yards 'cause the style's pronto
What it is you do? What it is you do?