For the live ones not the shook ones
For the riders not the hook ones
Immaculate conception like a black Madonna in mangers
My crew consist of millionaires failures and gangbangers
Say my name like Candyman
Then I'm creepin out the cut with a gallon in hand
I span forty nine states bounce rock skate
Similar to movin weight out of state
Lyrics lacerate spinal columns "I bury all cockroaches"
Stare in his face, Stomp-in on bustas like Kirk Franklin
Intrigued by the speed of a 911 Porsche? "But of course"
Still screaming Behold a Pale Horse
Watch my flame turn green like a Promethean torch
Pay no child support when me and my divorce
Some of y'all cats in the game look confused
Where's your butterfly collar and your crocadile shoes?
Gotta pay dues, street crews -- you know it's off the hook when
oh-three-one is gangbangin in Brooklyn
"Understandable smooth shit that murderers move with" --> Nas
To all my live ones, not my shook ones
"Understandable smooth shit that murderers move with" --> Nas
To all the riders, not the hook ones
"Understandable smooth shit that murderers move with" --> Nas
Music to live by, music to die by
"Understandable smooth shit that murderers move with" --> Nas
Uhh, Music to Driveby
I puff the Black & Mild, crusin on a Harley -- flickin ashes
Givin crazy baldheads the finger like Bob Marley
Suaver than synthetic players, that's my word
See ever since the days of Turkish gold chains and cross cords
Uncle Sam wanna play me on some
"All you people do is get on welfare and have crack babies"
Yeah maybe, but a lot of po-po is racists
they keep a brother fightin fede
