Whatever

"I think of sometime" - sample repeated throughout the song [Intro: Streetlife] I see him... Killa... blast on 'em, never Yo.. [Streetlife] I got the drop on you, don't flinch Pop niggas like John Lynch Leave niggas in they own stench I'mma light drinker, heavy smoker Known for duckin' show promoters Pass the money, over, my whole crew is ex-cons Be alarmed, when you hear the *err-urrrrr* It's on, Silverback niggas under the stairs When we link up, we travel in pairs Ya'll niggas best to beware of the most thoroughest Cover all aspects, four corners You can't creep up on us I'm takin' one for the team, deal me in And when the smoke clears, do it again This ain't a side show, you can die slow There's no I in team, we all ride... yo! The Masta brought the ceremony, this is my testament Homicide Housing, that's what I represent [Prodigal Sunn] Criminal gun play, chemical dream to P.J.'s Last raid, another fed paid, bed rum: Sunday The world dyin' for the love of money Expensive chains, intensive pain from that cocaine Condition the brain, children in strain, as I look back Memory lane, civil and plain, it be in fame A major part of the game, chemistry grain Foolish kids ran when I came Forty acres, five percent of terrain Spark right through my vein tunnel, aim through this jungle of rain A lot of haters wanna see us hang But watch me bang as in Eagle/Crane Step back, shatter your frame Another victim in the system where he barely sustained Forkin' in, I sold a million way, his first campaign Sippin' rosemary cherry champagne, nigga The young and the dangerous, water on the wrist, ice cryst' Talk with a lisp, then I be top of your list [Hook: Streetlife] We all in this together, forever and ever Down for whatever, whenever, yeah, yeah We all in this together, forever and ever Down for whatever, whenever [Masta Killa] Check the Words from the Genius, that was written in pen Murder gloves, hide the fingerprint, but never the sin Ghetto prophet that's born to quote Got the crimies, behind me, with the face on scope Don't provoke, trust son, that thing bust, and we roll dangerous Who can handle us, when we rush the clubs on thrust Yo, don't miss the lead vocalist, terrorist Wu-Tang, a pure danger, the God hold a fort Teach law, universal, beatdown, my stomping ground We hold courts in the streets of New York Snort the gun powder, eyes stay red like fire Cut the mic wire, hit a love ballad note Pen stroke, beautiful quote, for you to deep throat Ghetto life had to rough up in the housing They only make 'em like us, every twenty five thousand [Hook]