f/ Jinx Da Juvy, Kool G. Rap



Chorus (Kool G. Rap)



N.Y. City, crime around me, drug dynasties

death and robberies

on the dark blocks where bodies bleed

jake inside the P.J.'s, the heat waves

kids play where heat sprays

straight floods, no love, fake thugs

draw blood with Four-Four snubs

tear away your rug

kids with clout

up in the Range Rover with chicks, spray in their mouth

drain 'em out, set up for the wet up, bang 'em out

these streets in Queens remain the murder scene, blood stain 'em out

(repeat)



Verse 1: (Kool G. Rap)



Inside the chambers of Hell

where all the L puffin' niggas dwell

and fell 'cause of a loss of blood cells

bullet shells, glass is shattered

shit gets torn and tattered

niggas brains is splattered on sewage drains when they be goin' at it

static over addicts, revolvers and automatics

it's illmatic how I seen one catch two in the cabbage

from an initial, official shiny nickel played pistols

sparklin' like crystals, launchin' missiles

domes get blown like whistles

ain't no jokin', niggas will leave you and your Momma soakin'

and smokin' and blown open

bodies found in Hoboken

kids comittin' murder after murder

shit is real so I feel for the ones that don't pack steel and burners

bodies be droppin' down around Queens

by different teams, it's the Teens that tear your ass out the frame by

the seams

the end of the drama center, niggas you want drama?

word to Momma come equipped with two clips and body armor.



Chorus



Verse 2: (Jinx Da Juvy)



Yeah, it's that young fella, Jinx Da Juvy

fly lil' nigga, iced out with a fresh brand new Coogi

jigged out, wig spinned out with waves

pockets full of the Franklin, I stay gettin' paid

stay stackin' papes, plus my Fam flip cakes

while some of us rap, other fellas flip 'caine

rock big chains, what ya'll think this a game?

Murder incorp. slash open cases with cartels

we do things that make the Mob tell

the way we go outta state and flip more cakes then Carvel

ya'll play the cut, and watch this lil' nigga prevail

'cause I spit much hotter than Hell

so why ya'll playa hate and plot to creep on mine

I pay ya'll no mind, but violate and speak to the Nine

I'm a B.K. Son of a gun

when I spit 16 bars ya'll rap niggas dial 911

I'm only 14, and ya'll rap dudes ready to run

this ain't a game, ain't no time for fun

I'm the young rap Lord, so I gotta hold it down

it's Easy Mo Bee, G. Rap and Jinx Da Juvenile.



Verse 3: (Kool G. Rap)



Crushed with the ice, get rushed for your life

busted in twice, stuck with a knife

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