Featuring AZ]
Yeah yeah
Word up (Yeah
son)
Yeah yo how
this goin down nine-six
How we livin
son (exoticness)
Nine-six
exoticness (representin)
Know what I
mean? (A )
A (yo how we
livin?)
This is New
York City
Ninety-seven
Sosa
A to Z up in
the spot representin
Takin it back
from here its sposed to be
Takin ya back
son take it back
Check it
[Chorus]
Six digit
trickin coke and henny mixin many listen
Fuckin give
me mine dont wanna see no penny missin
Its old
tradition how we click and fall in position
The rap
coalition, we gettin rich an
[A ]
Poetically Im
deadly like a crucifiction
Buddha
addiction
Dismissin
competition when they roll wit friction
My whole crew
be schemin flippy
Like ixing
for that chicken
Smith brothas
and A on ya Mason-Dixon
Who want the
steel cap feel the real rap
Patiently my
whole crew waited and we rock premeditated
Chucked
underground like the rap genie
And watch the
shore by the rising tide now the whole world can see me
When they get
foul thats when my style gets wild
I hang a man
in front of a crowd without a trial
KAPOW, yo
thats all she wrote end the quote
For frontin,
a brotha got a dome and his legs broke
[Chorus: 2X]
[A ]
Yeah son I
want it all your crib, cars and beepers
Wit hundred
dollar sneakers my sounds blowin ya speakers
Burgundy
landcruisers chrome rims on blue rugers
Lyrical
hollow tip slug point trugers
[AZ]
Yo yo
Yo drug
connects
Diamond cut
bergets drippin wet
My hole is
there from Cu-bec got her flippin checks
What, I push
a black Lex with gold on my neck
You rockin
wit a vest tryin to catch a hole in ya chest
Firm
official, exotic girl but wanna be the ritual
Leavin lights
shine light theyve been psyched to slip through
[A ]
I will
abolish
MCs get
straight up demolished
Yo my mind is
like a nine I load it up wit knowledge
[Chorus: 2X]
The realism
must continue where I live is like a battlefield
We all poor
but on my block is like a half a mil
Surrounded by
the most criminal type of elements
Blunts,
stunts, gunshots, broken-down developments
Its all
illegal, young juveniles wit the desert eagles
Street
sweepers, heaters, soon-to-be retreaters
Its routine,
people seem to go through a cycle
So confused,
to choose between the bible or the rifle
Watch em
stifle
Yo me an son
gone escalate this
And get these
papers run some capers while they catch the vapors
Yeah son,
dont got no time for no chicken trickin
Its the
lyrical addiction
Cuz me an AZ
be politikin