Yeah...
(walk with me)
(come on)
[INTRO - FOXY]
Yeah,
It's like new york's been soft
Ever since my nigga shyne's been sittin in prison, yeah
[VERSE 1 - SHYNE]
(check it, uh)
Sick things, Sick rings, You shouda sickening
Sick chain, sick aim, 5th Bang, 5th frame, bail money
Lawyers acting funny, when I come through, hit em with the bundle on the humble
Couple notes
seen warlords with the rolls
Shit i want one too. what the fuck Im gon do
Forget it If its dated we gotten till im dried and rotten
Im rocking sideways, motherfucking crime pays
I need it, I get it, I got it, I chop it, I double the profit
And bubble the pockets. I'm livin to die.
Niggas talk fly till I walk by
And POP something. you motherfuckers FORGOT something I am not FRONTIN
This aint rap, music.
This aint that.
You fuck around and have you sleepin with a safe sack
Sincierly yours,
SHYNE motherfucking PO
Bitch get your bags, Hit the motherfucking DOOR.
[CHORUS - X2]
May the angels walk with me (more or less)
Big things big rims nigga (more or less)
Fucking big stars and big cars (more or less)
I can say I've seen it all and done it all (more or less)
[VERSE 2 - SHYNE]
G is a g
A key is a key
A snitch is a fish with no fiends that can't swim when I dump him in the river
Char-coal gray R.
12 cylinders bulletproof sentances.
trial day tentatives,
I sound like who?
Yall sound like trash
Get off my DICK and Pass my cash.
They will do it cause I rap about it, I rap about it cause they do it
My musics, they con do it you will take it I live it .. bitch nigga I click it then pitch it
Wipe the prints off of this shit, and ditch it
(uh) Hip hop aint responsible for violence in America. America is responsible for violence in America
Back to the flow
Nose full of blow
Roads full of hoes
Leave a nigga clothes full of holes
The schools didn't want me. so the drug dealers taught me, simple math, step on it twice then
Bring it back
The full times wouldn't pay. Divide the labour costs
and still come away with enough to play
and I see the same shit, niggaz younger than me, runnin the streets, lookin for somethin to Eat.
[CHORUS - X2]
May the angels walk with me (more or less)
Big things big rims nigga (more or less)
Fucking big stars and big cars (more or less)
I can say I've seen it all and done it all (more or less)
[VERSE 3 - SHYNE]
Oh boy you better get down, (Foxy Brown)
You better run for cover, when I spit rounds
Oh you in some shit now, get found, slit down to the white meat.
I'm from brooklyn, Vietnam nigga, I LIKE beef.
Livin the murderer streets double pipes. living the trouble life.
Father was a jerk, moms had to work, papi had the worst,
so I did what any real nigga would do, got in front the stove, now i got this shit sold
Fuck you PUNK niggas with your PUNK cash with the PUNK blast put your Punk ass in the trunk FAST.
What the FUCK yall thought, I bury niggas in walls, Im a trail motherfucker rapping raw.
Point blank, shooting niggas point blank all the way to the bank rip your face off then I take off.
The difference between me and them. you won't be SEEING them. no more nigga. secrets of war.
[CHORUS (repeat till end)]
May the angels walk with me (more or less)
Big things, big rims nigga (more or less)
Fucking big stars and big cars (more or less)
I can see I've seen it all and done it all (more or less)
Free Shyne
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