BLAQ POET

BLAQ POET - We Gon Ill lyrics

rate me

(feat. DJ Premier)

[scratched] "You know we gonna ill"

What...set it off what

My nigga Prim

Black Poet

[Verse 1]

Fuck the dumb shit, niggaz want drama

You know who to come kid, the cappital P the o-et

Smash motherfuckers up, crush motherfuckers up

Leave your body in the closet for a motherfucking month

Niggaz know my flow's relentless I said it I ment this

Niggaz get high, bitches get bent

Everybody knows Poet's on some hood shit

I wake every thug around the world tryin' to get rich

If you're doing your thing then slinging your thing

You know and I know nigga better bang

Watch them hoes, watch them snakes

Real niggaz in the game, fuck who ???

Real niggaz in the game knows what it takes

And real niggaz let you know what's real and fake

Like my nigga Primo, he reached out to me yo

Whereever he goes, I go, se, he me amigo

And we gonna ill

[Chorus: scratching by DJ Premier]

"You know we gonna ill" [x2]

"With love to those who died in the field

So many names we don't got room to spit them"

"This ain't a game nigga"

"You know we gonna ill" [x3]

[Verse 2]

What, what, aha, yeah, yeah

I sat back I watch ya niggaz and clocked ya niggaz

Played you on my box since I put rocks and figures

Got it through this life, drugs chop my shit, nigga

Lyrics gotta throw blood kill ya weak niggaz

Represent, all thugs and all money getters

I live some green and blings and shit that glitters

And plus, the word on the street is

I hotter then 2 blazin 9 millimetres

who can't belive this

A&R's, they pullin out their heads

They get fierd 'cause they havd a nigga right there

CEO's screaming "why the fuck yu didn't sign 'em?"

"He brought in a mansion and a hot boy diamands"

Should have gave me the world, stupid fuck

Look how I'm rhymin', wildin', calmin', poundin', grindin'

I ain't lyin'

Mad niggaz try with me, die with me

Belive it nigga, you don't wanna have to colide with me

We gonna ill

[Chorus]

[Verse 3]

Yo, got it together now, Mo' chedder now

Rest in peace pops, and my moms, I can't let it down

Queensbridge representative, style's unlimeted

Hot shots, hot rocks, I'm sendin' it

Who else you know get flow like Po'

For the love of this shit, and not the dough

I write my own rhymes 'cause I love this shit to death

Niggaz don't got respect, they just writin' the cheques

I might sell 10 mill if I learned some stacks

And bleach my skin and front like I'm from the projects

But all I can be is me, and catch wreck

As far as the eye can see, my whole set

Screwball gang-stars, comin' in planes and cars

Moet bottles with your brains on the ??? at the bar

From now on, shit is gettin more real

My niggaz in QB, I'm leaving you to heal

'cause I'm off the wall and I'm Illmaticly ill

[Chorus]

[Female singer: x2]

You know and I know, shit is real

Poet and Primo, them niggaz gon' ill

The whole industry's about, blacks and feal

Poet and Primo, them niggaz gon' ill

You know, I know, we gonna ill [x2]

We're gonna ill...

Thanks to mitch d for these lyrics

Get this song at:  amazon.com  sheetmusicplus.com

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