It's Great to Be Back in the Saddle

歌詞

(feat. Lex) [Intro: Shyheim] Yeah, Shyheim, nigga a/k/a S.I. A/k/a Jonathan Jackson the Manchild, you hear me Got my nigga, Lex, yeah, Jersey, Staten Island Bottom Up, Brock Bros., Stapleton, what up [Shyheim] I got S.I. on my back and I'm swimmin', 9000 miles back home My whole hood, happy, I'm back home I'm the backbone, black stone, Greatest Story Never Told Came to the wilderness of North America, alone Stompin' like a giant, on my corner, mash potato Timb's Containin' more fucked iodine, vitamins I'm grindin', puttin' it in, from the Bottom Up And I don't rock watches or bracelets, cuz they remind me of handcuffs Niggaz woke up a sleeping dragon, you hear that fire coming out my mouth You better call the red and white wagons And while you at it, tell 'em don't forget that leak water I be so wet whoadee, I can dry water, and for all y'all Niggaz out there, thinkin' y'all tough Real gangstas, like myself'll make y'all buckle like the end of a belt My handle's critically acclaimed, locked down the game With a one and two side, amex in the main [Chorus x2: Shyheim (Lex)] I'm back (Yeah, Shy, see you hear, never left But you back in the hood, so tell me what's really good) It's great (See, niggaz thought it wouldn't happen Picture the kid rapping, yes, niggaz he's back in) [Lex] Cuz it's back, this young dude from the Bricks, homey Became immune to the strip, carry two's, put shoes on the whip And I move with the fifth, on me, in case dudes wanna flip I leave 'em leakin', droolin' in shit But I can't stop, my block needs me, but just remember That bustin' these shots, and duckin' these cops, is not easy I'm down for whatever, I stand on the pavement, I'm trynna Round up this cheddar, I need a vacation I'm so stressed and my girl don't help, she can't understand Why I'm so stressed and why I worry myself And it's really starting to bother a nigga So with this weight laws, I'm startin' to shake off, pardon a nigga Balls, I got paper, but I'm far from a million That's why I'm, still in these streets, I hustle hard in these buildings Yeah, they say it's wrong, that these crackheads need me But I can't, leave it alone, cuz crackheads feed me Ricky, Shawn, Daneen and Barbara, Phylis and Ursula Got so much, that I'm needing a worker Show 'em how to move, and gets moved with a slot game But only talk samples, when the color of your top change [Chorus x2] [Shyheim] I got a call from Bobby Digital, he said it's critical For me to record a new album, I said aight, no interviews I refuse to talk to any reporters or disc jockeys This is for the people, so I got a right to be coky I'm the one and only, the only one chosen I preserve my microphone in, by keeping it frozen As a child, I said realer shit than most of you grown men I'm certified, ultra live, the ghetto says so Play my tape, even the roaches gon' come chill in your radio I'm ruthless, but wont day real easy, got whole hoods Wearin' mechanic suits, I do dudes so greasy I'm a hoodlum, til they turn out my lights, and give me a quarter I still have more girlfriends, than Diana Ross daughter It's a manslaughter.... [Chorus x2]