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Lyrics:
[Intro: Raekwon] Yo man get ya ass in here man You know the fucking Police looking for you man? Come on man - them niggas just left here man Come on man you know we got mad fucking blow Up in the Motherfucking lab son This nigga's off the hook man Yo Chef talk to these niggas man
[Raekwon] We're bagging ounces in the back of the Maz' Ostrich on, Woolrich's, three Quarter-ness A.D.I.D.A.S. with Stan Smith's The grant's on the Stove And Aunt Lo about to come to the Lab-o She giving me some credit for clothes That's the slang work for bricks, dicks Analyze you neva know who looking It's deranged world - where snitches is enterprising Black Man hold on, like magnums in the wind Cause when it get cold, parole give a homey like ten What's the prognosis; drugs, guns, and ounces of Gold fish Fly reefer outta town, bitches is stone six And birds back with 18 and played C.R.E.A.M, gray beam Its lean new A.D.I.D.A.S jackets, flipping up small dean Visualizing portraits, fresh cuts, brand new Porsche's Going with hand-to-hand, serving the Source Yo, running from the Police This day-to-day lifestyle where niggas get arraigned And get chain, it's like a cycle -- blaow!!
[Hook: Pete Rock] Drug dealers, star and celebrities (Ghetto celebs) Even dudes with a few felonies (A few felonies) In the PJ's this what they telling me (Telling who?) Sniffing real hard but you're not smelling me (Smell me) The crowd yelling for 'Chef' 'Killa' and 'Pete Rock' (Pete Rock) Got 'em moving like the millennium beat box (Beat Box) Shit is all good 'til they hear the heat cock (Whooo!) Fall back and let the beat rock
[Masta Killa] Degrees of experience qualifies me to speak in certain areas Where many can't reach, so I prepared a speech for y'all To then listen while I spit the hot venomous shit My whole clique sick, infested with the itchy trigger finger mob related Noodle-leanie universal flag beanie Son you wouldn't want to see me black down, Masta .4 pound Clip full of hallow tip round Turn the fucking sound up My cup running over Hennessey; the Bill Bixby Ninja Scroll, niggas that roll My son did four in the hole Tenant population, neva told, facing parole Sipped the old gold style, beat it in trial Mild-mannered .9 bandit, flow drunk Look at skunk weed sticking Razor sharp rip 'em, bites lift 'em We at the Jam direct The ghetto gospel, collaboration One work could change the nation No doubt!
[Hook]
[Raekwon] Tuna salad and Puma rackets pushing through the projects, captain Get your money, yo show me no slacking We drive the meanest joints Shoot through Medina with a Evisu jeans and nina's Stop by juniors we're hitting cheeba Briefly, crackers observe You got the undercovers Niggas just love us, yo we know that they suckers You know what? - What? Mosey don't be nosey yo! Watch these fake niggas with these Thank You cards Them shits is bogey Snitches in the hood up to no good We would kill a lot of mothafuckas but the timing ain't good So while my bankroll climbing I'll be out on consignment, breezing Ki's with 29 letters melted the cheeses All of my paper now in real estate White folks been doing this since '69 It's billions and killer weights So prosperous moves with the jewels, with Wu Nikes on It's cool don't eva act like niggas ain't new - one!
[Hook]
[Outro: Raekwon] Yeah! we just sit back - in the luxury toasters Sliding through the mothafucking projects Stand away from you fake ass mothafuckers Laying up in the barberShop, getting fucked up cuts We don't respect y'all (Don't respect y'all) Knaw'saying? This is Shala Louis Rich Pete Rock, Masta Killa, The Vatican One! I'm gone
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