It's a new day in the rap game! Nobody sells records but Shyne Po!
[Verse 1] My life had it's ups and downs, but I don't regret nothin' I had the whole tri-state high, nigga I ain't frontin' At Fifteen I sold my first bag of dope Used to stick Dominicans, burner under the coat Gettin' like 15 grams, a half a Ki At Fifteen man, a nigga just glad to be Gettin' some shorts, me and my Man from a Hundred and Fifth He knew some Dominican niggas that wanted a clique To hold 'em down, shoot niggas in the head Throw 'em out windows if they were late with the bread Basically I'm enforcin' Around heavy coke, when nobody's lookin' I'd be dippin' in the portion They wasn't missin' it So I got my hustle on the side, flippin' it Sellin' like 500 bottles and Nicks, started minor But I always knew I'd turn a big apple into cider.
Niggas...niggas just ain't built like me... Stand up niggas...since 15 I been servin' fiends and loadin' magazines... Takin' shots..burnin' blocks.. This ain't no fuckin' rap.
[Verse 2] Everything was everything 'till my Man got pinched He had a shoot-out with the cops in front of the precinct Other than that, I went from enforcer to movin' product, straight white Powder now, gettin' it The hardest nigga in the street My first car was a 190 Benz with Louie Vaton seats Buyin' out the bar at the rooftop I had a few spots One called the jukebox Where I was gettin' like 50 a brick 2 or 3 bricks a day, makin' mothafuckas sick My Cousin Ron a crook from the Brook was torchin' Any niggas whisperin' or talkin' 'bout extortion Shit was goin' right and only one better When I got my Italian connect, hittin' me with pure Heroin Moved to 116th, started seein' real dinero then Empire buildin', the shit was takin' flight Had my bitches cuttin' up like 10 Ki's a night Mixin' lactose, Bonita, and Quenii I was the first Black nigga with mafia ties Leased my soul to the Devil with the option to buy.
Yo..bangin' for real.. Niggas is thinkin' rap, I'm thinkin' laundromat.. We washin' this money... You think this shit is about rhymes... You'll find yourself under the fuckin' ground...you know?.. We get low when the Feds is in town.. This is justice.. We playin' the pop charts and still lettin' them things pop off...
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