do you think i really care about how you see me? as soon as i turn around be careful what you say. when you leave it's the same, no one's your friend
'em on the floor From your grubby hands, as you hand the grand stand You live a shitty life, we live the bonne, bonne vie Hotter than the book, while
The time has come to set aside The stories we're told And talk about the children growing old For building blocks and colour books Will soon fade away
love you, baby I love you, baby I met her uptown on dyckman, aight then Talkin that, how she only dealt with businessmen Niggaz, baggin' joints, money off and on the books
it come our way) Oh, I said, oh, yeah When they come to lock you down (Don't let it come our way) Look in, they grill and get the real 'Cuz expressions
up a second......this is the remix so let's bring back my man, Craig Mack [Verse 4: Craig Mack] Aiyyo you must wanna be in the Guinness Book of World
'd rather be in jail then broke, this s-t is wack Jizzle only word for ya dog, this s-t is crack Use to hide em up in my crib, the real is back [Chorus
I'd rather be in jail then broke, this shit is wack Jizzle only word for ya dog, this shit is crack Use to hide em up in my crib, the real is back [
the time, you know the place Cuffed in the room with the two-way glass Detects in effect cold doggin' my ass "What's your date of birth?", "What's your real
books, let 'em censor art PMRC, this is where the witch hunt starts You'll censor what we see, we read, we hear, we learn The books will burn You better
Meanwhile the penile is stacked to the top With my niggaz, mostly for squeezin' triggas I call 'em homies, pigs call 'em crooks So I write and put bucks on they books
has no muscle plus you, my new hustle Fuck scuffin up my knuckles, rather buck you and watch you buckle I can't stand a snitch, a switch real bitch I
books, son Black leaders die young, they tell us that your words are scary They're revolutionary because we speak the truth about crime and drugs And expose the real
the type? Then a music called hip-hop came along and saved my life I had a story to tell about my knowledge of hell $2.50 for a book, listen and look
than a little bit We don't pull it out over little shit And if you catch a lick when I spit, then it won't be a little hit Go read a book you illiterate
You run away from everything that you fear So afraid don't wanna be a part of it You see the fake in every thing that is real You hate the pairadox You
Yeah it's magic Uhh, Jay-Z and Lenny Kravitz And it's a Heavy D Production you bastards Come on Ha hey yo stop playin' man This is real serious Ha it'
all to the good Real players in the D-Twa, some of them throwed Slackin' on they mackin', rest haven for hoes Real pranksters in the Chi, most of them real
