Sometimes it feels like the whole world's against me
It isn't the Henny that bent me, I be in the zone
Gazing at the walls, depressed, iggin' the phone
They take it personal, but only a minor few can understand
What a nigga feeling, 41st 'til I die motherfuckers
I'm still breathing, you a mutt, son, we full bread
You ain't my dog, tryna infiltrate the clique is you?
I get wit you, handle that on a later note
We over-dose, every day the death is so close
I'm tryna tell these cats, but I let 'em do they thing
Ready for the bad news 'til the phone ring
Son is dead, now I'm in way over my head seeking revenge
Son bent, son, on your behalf tryna laugh

Check out the drill, dun, conceal guns
Play the hum, for rea, son's leaning back checking out the action
On the benches we drinkin' X's
Yo, twirl that shit, while I spark this
Chocolate, burn it down like an arsonist
Pull out the miz 'cause its time to bring the biz to kids
And blow all hell fire out your empire
Your livest wire couldn't make my Mobb expire or retire
I'm lettin' off 'til my arms tired
Just sit quite with my head full of riot
Our buyers, it clear for your ear to hear
I declare that only live niggas rap this year
'96 I lost my dun, '97 it got worse
Fuck it, somebody out the team gotta get murked
And sat down, you play the background when shots sound off
Flashin' back on how my mans is gone
K.B. forever in my memory
I spill some Henny then I keep it moving

Yo, do our thing, hold it down, we got this, lockin' this
Ain't nobody stoppin' this, Rakim and Infamous
Rep the hood for you and yours, no doubt, crash the boards
And you don't really wanna go against the source

Surprise, open eyes, peep the foulness, the wildness
Its bugged, niggas thugs in the projects, you holiday thug
Ease up all that illin' and grillin', get ya melon lit up
Y'all niggas is butt, you want me? I'm right in QB, what?
Where you find me at, sippin' Cognac from a cup
With my heat next to my nuts
Never afraid to pull it and bust
Slug rushin' to your head like dust, but that wasn't enough
This one was kind of tough, he squeezed back
Better believe he no longer breath, black
Fuckin' with these Queens cats
I got dreams raisin' my little queen
And nobody gonna stop that
In fact, black, if you come at me, don't come sloppy
All my baby girl got is her papi
To guide her through this world of hatred
And I'd die to see that she make it
And die to let the next man take it? Is you stupid?

Yo, you want to come test? Son, it's massive stress
Penalties is death, pay your last respects
We harass your rep if you slept or half step
We adapt to see what we can master next
After sex, pass the bless for after effects
Relax your stress, through math and set mad connects
Cash the check, to get assets we blast TECs
Dealin' with the mental aspect on chess
So retreat your trips if your duns come to shoot
Get greeted by a twenty-one gun salute
I keep 'em leery of the deadly '7 MC' theory
Soon as you they hear me, I release "Lyrics of Fury"
And quick to say a poem to ricochet in your dome
My clique made me leave the nickel-plated at home
So I can get the cheddar and be the better trendsetter
The 18th Letter forever, what?

Do our thing, hold it down, we got this, lockin' this
Ain't nobody stoppin' this, Rakim and Infamous
Rep the hood for you and yours, no doubt, crash the boards
And you don't really wanna go against the source
Do our thing, hold it down, we got this, lockin' this
Ain't nobody stoppin' this, Rakim and Infamous
Rep the hood for you and yours, no doubt, crash the boards
And you don't really wanna go against the source

Copyright: Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): Albert Johnson, Kejuan Waliek Muchita, Tajuan Perry, William Griffin