Gary G-Wiz, Ridenhour, Studdah Man

Whole lotta love goin' on
In da middle of what?
Say what?
What's goin' on?

I leave em home alone
Dey turned into danger zones
Studio shootouts, leavin' no doubt
In da eyes of the wise
About the other guys

Fantasy 'n' gettin' that rep
Makin' you move
While they disturb the groove
Now the party's over ooops!
Outta time
Yo my brother can you spare a crime
Some want to take me out
I even call em my own
(Can't we all just get along?)
Rap is a contact sport
Can I get support
When I hum to da maximum
What I talk is straight
From da sidewalk strong

The velt New York
One hundred and twelve beats a minute
An I'm flowin in it
Have no mercy
On da ones that curse me

And when I'm in da paint
The feuding might be over
But the fussin' ain't
Some hate the way I say em
Cause I block em like
Zo to da am
Beginning of an end of an error
Incredible shrinking race

Fiend without a face
Still got love for em
But some ain't got love
For the rest of us

So my boys get iller than
Illinois (Terminator)
Return to da noise

I'd rather fall off
Than fall victim of crime
And a low percentage rhyme
If I go down they goin' with me
So come and get me c'mon

Copyright: Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): CARLTON RIDENHOUR, GARY RINALDO, SEAN DEVORE