Artist: Shyne f/ Foxy Brown Album: Godfather Buried Alive Song: More or Less Typed by: gigit_100@yahoo.com, ehhviin@gmail.com (Foxy) Gyeah (Shyne) Gyeah, walk with me (Foxy) Gyeah, It's like New York's been soft ever since my nigga Shyne been sittin' in prison yeah [Verse 1] Shyne Check it, sick things, sick rings, this shit is sickening Sick chains sick aim, 5th bang 5th frame Bail money lawyers actin' funny when I come through Hit 'em with a bundle on the humble Couple notes, seen warlords with the Rolls shit, I want one too What the fuck I'm gon' do But get it if it's there to be gotten 'til I'm dried and rotten And I'm rockin' sideways muthafucka crime pays I need it, I'll get it, I got it, I'll chop it, I'll double the profit And bubble the pockets, I'm living to die Niggaz talk fly 'til I walk by and pop somethin' Muthafuckas forgot somethin', I'm not frontin' This ain't rap, music this ain't that You fuck around I'll have you sleepin' where the saints at Sincerely yours Shyne muthafuckin' Po Bitch get yo' bags hit the muthafuckin' do' [Hook] (2x) May the angels walk with me, more or less Big things, big rims nigga, more or less Fuckin' big stars in big cars, more or less I can say I seen it all and done it all, more or less [Verse 2] A G is a G, a ki is a ki, a snitch is a fish (as in kilo) With no fins that can't swim when I dump him in the river Charcoal gray R, 12 cylinders bulletproof sentences Trial day tentative I sound like who? ya'll sound like trash Get off my dick and pass my cash They don't do it cause I rap about it I rap about it cause they do it My music's the conduit to a ticket, I live it Bitch nigga, I cook it and pitch it Wipe the prints up off the shit and ditch it, uh Hip-Hop ain't responsible for violence in America America's responsible for violence America Back to the flow nose full of blow Rolls full of hoes, leave a nigga clothes full of holes The schools didn't want me so the drug dealers taught me Simple math, step on it twice and bring it back Get 4 times what you paid, divide the labor costs And still come away with enough to play And I see the same shit in niggaz younger than me Runnin' the streets lookin for somethin' to eat [Hook] 2x [Verse 3] Ole boy betta get down better run for cover When I spit rounds ah you in some shit now Get found slit down to the white meat I'm from Brooklyn, Vietnam nigga, I like beef But being a bird in the street, double plight Livin' a troubled life, father was a jerk Moms had to work, papi had the works So I did what any real nigga would do Got in front the stove, now I got this shit sold Fuck you punk niggaz wit' yo' punk cash Let the pump blast, put yo punk ass in the trunk fast The fuck y'all thought I bury niggaz in walls, I'ma trill muthafucka after all Point blank shootin niggaz point blank all the way to the bank Rip yo face off then I take off The difference between me and them, you won't be seein' them No more, nigga, secrets of war [Hook] 4x