Tekster: 9th Prince. Prince Of New York. Hood Life.
[Chorus: male singer]
This is hood life
All my thugs rolling on dubs, living the good life
This is hood life
Everyday we live our lives, like it's the last time
This is hood life
Baby girl, if you don't know, this is the hood life
This is hood life
[Masta Killa:]
Son died with the gun on his waist
Watch the barrel spin, the rude one beg no friends
Arm self, we bomb for the wealth
And chant, men engage in battle, set the stage
I'm prepared with today's Math, my mic be my rod and staff
All hail, this is Irief Jamel
Chief of the Chee Saw, gun you down southpaw
Still fuck my pussy raw, all praises due to Allah
Who wanna spar mind, on the 64
Truth be the bulletproof, be 'em with the moo-moof
Truth within reach, born breach, I still teach
Civilization, to all the human families
[Dom Pachino:]
Who's the Spanish kid, damage your shit, and he reppin'
To a nasty track, get the crowd moving, just like my weapon
Disrespecting who? Playboy, I thought you knew
Killarmy's a congregation of niggas that'll murder you
We talking prime time, no bells ringing, never heard of you
But if I died, and you fucking with fam, then I'm serving you
Personally, ain't no rehearsing your speech
I give you chills when I come through like a chalkboard screech
I never ask for nothing twice, I usually take it
You'se a tool that don't work right, and usually break it
I'm a keep it real nigga, ya'll usually fake it
Ya'll play around with bitches, I strip 'em naked
I that hit you with that Smith & Wess' I found in the lake, kid
Ya'll don't hear me? Then ya'll don't need to be near me
I'm not insane, I think it's just a life of pain
Raps, gats and drugs, just run through my veins
Not to mention, all that life adore
All the times I had to pull out and hit the floor
Exchange shots, empty the clip and serve one more
And if no one got hit, then we call it a draw
It's hood life, if you been there, I don't need to tell you
If you smell like swine or pussy, I don't need to smell you
Play your part, my thoughts is like state of the art
X-rays, don't play, slugs'll rip you apart
[Chorus]
[Killa Sin:]
First things first, just let it be known, blow 'em from the dirt
Putting in work to get mine, yo fuck getting jerked
See I find the true shine lie within scent
Blinding these dispising envious niggas who analyzing my men
Ya'll weak cats? I seek and destroy like break beats
I take heat, from the fake in the street, and tap your feet
You know what I mean, don't touch me, rest of ya'll get amped up
Like Guess jeans, but courtesy like dry cleaners specialty
The recipe to me be 36 forms of energy
Born and swarm on, any enemy, remember me?
Last name's heard, and that's my word, you shot back but missed me
You bird, you blazing me is crazy absurd
Handle the cannon like I'm Julius Irv' and ball with it
Violate and I'm a leave that ass just out the curb
[9th Prince:]
Aiyo when lightning strikes my brain, electricity travel through my body
Twenty thugs with snubs, all up in the party
Knight Rider Ferrari, bitches, guns and drugs
Lay around in the dining room
Staten Island Platoon coming soon, money, greed and the law
My lyrics is hot in the summer June
Without Loud Records, my Army make more noise than kaboom
Magazine queen turn fiend for CREAM
She drown in the pool of carasine
Her big mouth is what lead to fire, to the gasoline, she blew up
Like Clint Eastwood in Unforgiven
4th Disciple electronic musician
Bitch ass niggas play your position
Examine more bodies than a physician, physician...
[Chorus]
Prince Of New York
9th Prince
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