The PJs

歌詞

[Intro: Raekwon] Yo man get ya ass in here man You know the fuckin' Police lookin' for you man Come on man, them niggaz just left here man Come on man you know we got mad fuckin' blow Up in the Motherfuckin' lab son This nigga's off the hook man Yo Chef talk to these niggaz man [Raekwon] We baggin' ounces in the back of the Maz' Ostrich on, Wollriches, three Quarter-ness A.D.I.D.A.S. wit Stan Smith's The grant's on the Stove And Aunt Lo about to come to the Lab-o She givin' me some credit for clothes That's the slang work for bricks, dicks Analyze you neva know who lookin' It's deranged world - wit snitches is Enterprisin' Black Man hold on, like Magnums in the Wind Cuz when it get cold, parole give a homey like ten What's the prognosis: drugs, guns, and ounces of Gold fish Fly reefer out-town, bitches is stone six And birds back in 18 and played C.R.E.A.M Gray beam, it's lean new A.D.I.D.A.S jackets, flippin' up small dean Visualizin' portraits, fresh cuts Brand new Porsche's Going wit hand-to-hand, servin' the Source Yo, runnin' from the Police This day-to-day lifestyle where niggaz get arraigned And get chain, it's like Psycal (??Psycho??)--blao!! [Hook: Pete Rock] Drug Dealers, Star and Celebrities (Ghetto Celebs) Even dudes wit a few felonies (A few felonies) In 'The PJ's' this what they tellin' me (Tellin' who?) Sniffin' real hard but you not smellin' me (Smell me) The crowd yellin' for 'Chef' 'Killa' and 'Pete Rock' (Pete Rock) Got 'em movin' like the Millennium beat box (Beat Box) Shit is all hood 'til they hear the heat cock (Whooo!) Fall back and let the beat rock [Masta Killa] Degrees of experience qualifies me to speak in certain areas Where many can't reach, so I prepared a speech for ya'll To then listen while I spit the hot venomous shit My whole Clique sick, infested wit the itchy tigger finger mob related Noodle-leanie universal flag Beanie Son you wouldn't want to see me black down, Masta .4 pound Clip full of hallow tip round Turn the fuckin' sound up My cup runneth over Hennessey, the Bill Bixby Ninja Scroll, niggaz that roll My son did four in the hole Tenant population, neva told, facin' Parole Sipped the old gold style, beat it in trial My mild-mannered .9 Bandit, flow drunk Look at Skunk weed stickin' Razor sharp rip 'em, bites lift 'em We at the Jam direct The Ghetto Gospel, collaboration One word could change the nation No doubt! [Hook: Pete Rock] [Raekwon] Tuna Salad and Puma rackin' (??) pushin' through the projects, captain Get your money, yo show me no slackin' We drive the meanest Joints shoot through Medina wit a Evisu Jeans and Nina's Stop by Juniors we hittin' cheeba Briefly, crackers observe You got the undercovers Niggaz just love us, we know they suckers You know what? - What? Mosey don't be nosey yo! Watch these fake niggaz wit these Thank You cards Them shits is bogey Snitches in the hood up to no good We would kill alot of Motherfuckers but the timin' ain't good So while my bankroll climbin' I be out on consignment, breezin' Ki's wit 29 letter melted cheeses All of my papers now in real estate White folks been doin' this since '69 It's billions and killer weight So prosperous moves wit the jewels, wit Wu Nikes on It's cool don't eva act like niggaz ain't who (??) One! [Hook: Pete Rock] [Outro: Raekwon] Yea! we just sit back - in the Luxury Toasters Slidin' through the Motherfuckin' projects Stand away from you fake ass Motherfuckers Layin' out in the BarberShop, gettin' fucked up cuts We don't respect ya'll (Don't respect ya'll) Knaw'sayin'? This is Shala Lewis Rich Pete Rock, Masta Killa, The Vatican One! I'm gone