Gem Star's

[Intro: Killah Priest (Tragedy Khadafi)] Yeah, pass that (word up, word up Word up, haha, that shit feel good right? Knowhatimean?) Yeah (Gem Star the Regime, straight up Black Market the revolution) Yeah (Both sides of the coins) Inside of this (You understand what we talkin' bout?) Uh-huh (We giving y'all fair warning) [Tragedy Khadafi] Hot lead bust through iron pipes Blood drips from the corner of young thug's mouth, the hood life His torn flesh, and his last bit of breath Pulses, over death fless, homicide hover like vultures Married the game, now the Earth's dirty and dulgis Should of seen him though, niggas though his heart was the coldest Left two seeds, little son Rod was the oldest Two baby mothers, blowing guns, duckin' under covers And his motto was, no one in this whole world love us From the womb to the tomb, presumed the youth's scars Soul on ice, tears of a killer, behind bars When you curse God, streets is a gangsta's graveyard My advice, in the meantime, to you, is play hard It's real, when you deal with the cards you dealt It's not real, when your seeds feel the pain you felt Break the curse, disciple, nigga, pave the way It ain't gangsta, when your seeds go lay in the same grave Then die in the same hood, bleed on the same corner The game's over, all of my niggas, have fair warning Fair warning... lie's life [Killah Priest] My rhymes a guideline, for political thugs and O.G.'s Who blows trees in front of authorities, like giving a fuck Revolvers will squeeze, regardless to the warrants you read Trauma we bleed, before they put our wrists in them cuffs I sit in the cut, like I'm sixty two, and next Panther Narrator, screen writer for niggas in handcuffs Gangstas are freedom fighters doing life in the slammers Where the strangers take advantage, when they tie bananas And I thank you, what the knife til we collide with them hammers Phantoms, they talk before we sell them Cats yell from they gut, the shells come and their skeleton struck How I survive that four/five, well I tell 'em it's luck Fellas erupt, at chow time, shots heard from a loud nine Fitted turbans, we feast and beneath her loud signs I don't care, we cripple you blood When cops come, get rid of them drugs For revolution, grab that mask, pistol and glove This is the love, black oils richer than blood I'm sick of the grudge, between vice laws and G.D.'s Latin Kings and Mieta's, it's that real shit, that hood lecture [William Cooper] Your future's outlined in chalk, when you tangle with dope If you know what they risking, they eventually choke I put the flames to the smoke, your body leaks til y'all soap Black Market's the vote, now we that uncooked coke That smuggled in on boats, dippin' DEA coats Poppin' up like toast, so don't play me too close The FBI and the Mob be like the Bloods and the Crips Seems like the root of all evil, leads to government chips It's better to slip with the foot, then slip with the tongue Flash both sides of the coin, then the Yin and Yang forms Keep it straight, black and white, with no gray in my zone Stand on top of my word, what I gave is my soul So who do I owe? Dug myself up out of a hole And while y'all fightin' for gold, I'm fight the NWO Since twelve years old, I'se nowhere to get a burner Because the breath of the devil, have you huggin' the corner [Hook 2X: Killah Priest] And in the hood, we spit gem star's Givin' you fair warnings, for life lectures Puttin holes in your tecture Only two ways to go, parole or the stretcher We'd rather be on our thrones, holdin' our chesters