Young G's (feat. The Notorious B.I.G. & Jay-Z)

Uh, check it out, uh
I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!

Fuck all that pretty shit
Takin' it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers
Niggas know the deal
Niggas know who the Don is
Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one
Peep game, uhh, what, what

Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars
Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars
We built them radars to stay free from the cops
Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop
Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke
Your squad arti-choke
Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke
Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show
Nigga I know, might say "Been There Done That" like Dre
Through hard work I earn the vault
Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt
Got nice watches, nice cars, nice bitches, and rings
Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things
Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake
When you all fucked up, and can't get no break
When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it
Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it
Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit
That's what I did, now they all askin' for hits
Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known
We still fly but separately 'cause now I charter my own
Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them player haters jealous
Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us
Why niggas bring the ruckus?
Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers

Just some ghetto boys
Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets
And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive
It's just reality

Yeah, make you a deal, check
These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed
I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead
So I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead
'Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin' through your head
I been rich, I been poor, I saved and blown bread
Some say I been here before because of the way I zone
Some said, Jigga zone is like the fallin' of Rome
Reoccurring, that he thinks like that 'cause he's observing
Won't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones
Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own
In the physical, one seems, like a lost body
In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body
But it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me
To the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin' me 'cause
I got it locked like the late Bob Marley
Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley
Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone
Niggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born
Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order
So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters
You walk 'em through it, you know, talk 'em through it
Know these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it
Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie
Had a shorty and a girdle comin' out of B-W-I (in school)
I hated algebra but I loved to multiply
And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi' before I die
It's gonna happen whether rappin' or clappin' have it your way
'Cause if that's my dough you're trappin', I'm clappin' your way

Just some ghetto boys
Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets
And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive
It's just reality

Damn it feel good to see people up on it
Flipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it
My brain is haunted, with mean dreams
GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get richer
Than Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me
If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it
My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat
High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit
In my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci
Bulletproof vestes under they coochie
Spittin' my Uzi, don't lose me, my trigger niggas represent
Drivin' dirty in J-30's gettin' bent
And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies
I be smokin' trees in Belize when they find me
While you still killin' niggas with punany, like heiny
And Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus
While I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke
Got lawyers watchin' lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it
Them country niggas call me Frank White
I'm squirtin' off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight
Sunrise open my eyes no surprise
Got my shorty flyin' in with keys taped to her thighs
With all the utensils, who hang my China thing
She half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental
The situation ain't accidental
What? From a, from a young G's perspective
What? From a, from a young G's perspective

Just some ghetto boys
Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets
And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive
It's just reality

Just some ghetto boys
Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets
And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive
It's just reality



Credits
Writer(s): Christopher Wallace, Rashad Smith, Shawn C. Carter, Oliver Jr. Sain, Kelly Price, Todd Eric Gaither
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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