styles p - beats to my rhyme lyrics
[intro]
s.p. this where it started at, on the microphone?
rip a n-gg-, make him scream
(yeah poobs, let’s get him n-gg-)
[styles p]
beats to the rhyme, street full of crime
rap or the gat i got heat for your mind
beats what a n-gg- got asleep on your spine
on the creep and the grind, rap the work or double up
hit you with a scar on your cheek, watch it bubble up
man pull the hummer up, shoot any runner-up
real cool n-gg-z but we might f-ck the summer up
n-gg-z wonder what i’m involved in
see me all alone when i’m runnin in harlem
bronx and queens, f-ck that i live life like i’m starvin
you don’t like me, f-ck you n-gg-!
i don’t trust you, i cut you or bust you n-gg-
i shoot up where you hustle n-gg-, f-ck the program up
rob all your workers, cut yo’ grams up
you dealin with big n-gg-z or pig n-gg-z
p don’t give a f-ck when it’s time to jig n-gg-z
(i don’t give a f-ck) you dig? n-gg-z big
run up in the crib and wig n-gg-z and i don’t mean fake hair
you can bet that i’m goin, they said that there’s cake there
might as well get them candles out; we ain’t makin a wish
we sayin a prayer cause i blammed you out – what?
guess who back? it’s p with the p-91
38 specials, the extra gat
in the souped up mirada n-gg-, extra black – what?
you know
you know who i am
i’m that n-gg-! (ghost)
poobs we out
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