(feat. Foxy Brown, The Lox)
Yeah
Uhhh
[Foxy]
It's time for everybody
To get they muthafuckin' minds right
Cause it's about to go down
Straight like that
Oooh
Uhhh
Kid Capri
Ill Na Na
And the muthafuckin' L-O-X
That's right
[Chorus: Styles]
From the top of New York, where they be poppin' they corks
From the bottom of the slums, where they be poppin' they guns
Niggas that rock whips and get plenty of one's
But niggas goin' hand and hand, are havin' to run
The niggas that had cake and got sent up state
For the mother who lost the child and had to settle for weight
For those who up out the ghetto, but don't know how to skate
Guess you gotta live the life that has fallen to fate
[Sheek]
Aye yo, aye yo
Our shit contagious, so ya'll niggas try to quaratine us
Ya'll niggas shook up, and all that like Orange Juice is
My gun American, but my niggas got foreign enemies
Six cars between us, laced out
Half my money from the drug route, ya know how that goes
We into heavy metal plugs, and slum shit for the nose
Is Sheek Lucion, he better ball with a groupie on
My python, gettin' sex
In hotels with connect the rooms
Fill letter walk through on his ex
Jadakiss and Styles walk a pound up through a storm
Room service, bring 'em champagne with five matts on
>From most hated, to heavy rotated, forget it
Next stop is movies, ya'll check it when Blockbuster get it
Cheap-skates, sweatin' off pre-release dates
For Money, Power & Respect, on platnuim out the gates
>From Rusell Simmons to Puff, Lox and DMX copped it
Big time, we probably shoot this joint up on tropics
When we eat fish like whiteies
And bitches have all nighties
Suckin' dick, me I'm on some jail shit
Standing up, jerkin' off, while these hoes see these doubles click
[Chorus: Styles]
From the top of New York, where they be poppin' they corks
From the bottom of the slums, where they be poppin' they guns
Niggas that rock whips and get plenty of one's
But niggas goin' hand and hand, are havin' to run
The niggas that had cake and got sent up state
For the mother who lost the child and had to settle for weight
For those who up out the ghetto, but don't know how to skate
Guess you gotta live the life that has fallen to fate
[Foxy Brown]
Uhh, uhh
Bet I salute all chicks that be gettin' them chips
Throw it up, for my bitches, that be poppin' that Crist'
Specially to the one's, who be ridin' that dick
And if the pussy bangin', hope it cop to a stick
And all my thorough chicks, who cried and lied for these cats
Out of twon, on a hound for these cats, ehh
Shit got dick, let 'em ground for these cats
And the crocodle Prada, satsh the pund for these cats
Me and my bitches got down for these cats
Paid our dues, for 62's, taped to the top
Seen the truth through the lie, but the bullshit is fine
Like a trooper, I put that one the life that I ride
Guilty charges, straight copped out the 3-5
Now fucking my crew, suffer and die
Maximum 25, baby fuck if I fry
It's a ditry game, when it come to slingin' them thangs
Bail like a hundered-thou, but the us is more change
Shit, i used to trick that from jewels and the rings, huh
[Chorus: Styles]
From the top of New York, where they be poppin' they corks
From the bottom of the slums, where they be poppin' they guns
Niggas that rock whips and get plenty of one's
But niggas goin' hand and hand, are havin' to run
The niggas that had cake and got sent up state
For the mother who lost the child and had to settle for weight
For those who up out the ghetto, but don't know how to skate
Guess you gotta live the life that has fallen to fate
[Styles]
Fred one, for niggas that be bustin' they gun
Till the death, what'd you expect for a couple of one's
Fred two, for niggas that ain't ever had shit
Messed up, locked down, go on and grab shit
Fred three, for niggas on lock without a key
That ain't never comin' home, but you know how it be
Livin' to die, but niggas ain't willin' to die
If you bust up in the air, you ain't killin' the sky
Feelin' the high, nigga is you willin' to lie
You a crumb and you dumb, you ain't stealin' the pie
I leave a bloody mess, nigga bigger then me, cut his neck
Lox brothers, ya'll niggas is cock-suckers
Yellow belly cowards, I want Money and the Power
Assassin, you think it's a joke, you'll die laughing
Hoppin' out the plane, and only bring the captain
Start of a legacy, a hard broke down and start beggin' me
Dog I'm a whole different pedigree
Take me to the limit, I'm layin' in the cut
While you playin' in the scrimage
Meet you at the final
Lyrically, I'm spiritually, drunkier then a winow
Posion, house full of rhyme
Bring your boys in
Tell 'em take it easy, have a seat on the couch
I'm the govenor, ya'll bitch niggas is crowds
Take orders, we need passports at the border
Transport the water, sheerest corner
Fell sick to be hit, but we wasn't the cure
Make your ear-drums pop, probably lick drop
Eyes slinch up, leaves hit the foor by the time he spits up
Nobody gets up
Muthafuckas
L-O-X muthafucka
L-O-X, try this shit
[Chorus: with ad-libs]
From the top of New York, where they be poppin' they corks
From the bottom of the slums, where they be poppin' they guns
Niggas that rock whips and get plenty of one's
But niggas goin' hand and hand, are havin' to run
The niggas that had cake and got sent up state
For the mother who lost the child and had to settle for weight
For those who up out the ghetto, but don't know how to skate
Guess you gotta live the life that has fallen to fate
Kid Capri is an American DJ and record producer, considered one of the pioneers of hip hop turntablism. Born in New York in 1964, he began his career in the 1980s, becoming famous for his energetic sets and his ability to mix tracks in an innovative way. He has collaborated with artists such as LL Cool J, The Notorious B.I.G., Jay-Z and Snoop Dogg. Some of his most important albums include *Soundtrack to the Streets*, *The Tape* and *Unify*. Kid Capri is known for having contributed to the spread of hip hop culture worldwide, influencing generations of DJs.
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