Boldy James, The Alchemist - Bernadines lyrics

It's all your fault, Al (uh uh, uh uh, uh)
It's on where we at?
Bo Jackson, let's get it (ay, 227)

Can't none of y'all mirror me back  (at all)
Back to them ol' FILA Runballs
Steerin' the Ac  (uh huh)
Ain't have a quarter for a
Gumball out the machine (flat broke)
Was choppin' up them 8 balls with
A house full of fiends (let's get it)
Run in and out
Then I pull off once I count up the cream
(it's all here)
Got Uncle Whoadie takin' calls while
I round up the beans (iceman)
Want all the blues and the orange
My niggas so Detroit (hell block)
Taj Mahal told me pull up
He said he on the courts
A smoker came with thirty bucks
Gave her a skimpy dime
Told auntie "hurry the fuck up"
She took her sweet time
I pulled off 'fore she made it on
She was takin' too long (where we at?)
Jalisa came at me with nine
Gave her two stones (be right back)
For bein' patient, she hate waitin'
I hate takin' shorts (I does)
Woke up this morning off the drank
Shit had me late for court (drugs)
Four fives and two sixes
Threw the V8 in sport (uh huh)
That's two pints, add it up
My niggas drinkin' quarts (what else?)
On hell block, still in the flame
Don't make me blaze the torch
My PO popped up at my crib
She say I ain't report got me depressed

Murder is a tough thing to digest
30 with the green beam
Thuggin' in the projects
Learned to keep them killings clean
Had to cover my steps kept them Bernadines
Knew not to post them guns on the 'net
Streets is watchin'
Murder is a tough thing to digest
It's a slow process
So before you take cuts in that line
Murder is a tough thing to digest
Yeah, you know the rest

Eye to the sky, got my head up in the cloud
(yeah) can hear the concrete crack soon as
I step foot on the ground
I been up and runnin'
Only six and rep McNichols mob
With enough shooters to round up
And shut the city down
With ten 47s, ain't no question
We did them niggas foul
Heavy press, my niggas plow
Better catch up with your crowd
Grew up around gorillas
Dope dealers and young wild niggas
My hitters dead gang with this shit
Y'all niggas cloud killers
It's Concreatures, two-way due-ce siete
Rockin piete from the UK on the expressway
(where we at?)
On my way to the next play, bumped into Jefe
He went up on the ticket
Plus this shit look like it's played with
(what's this?)
Spotty in the middle, off-white
Without no shine to it
(why this shit look like this?)
Was somethin' like a piano
I had to fine tune it (uh)
Honor student from the university
Of crime school (Crime U)
Your baby mama used to move the
Work for me and find blues
Five rules that you must abide
When you in the mob (gang)
Never break the oath, bend or fold
Never steal or rob
From the La Famil', cross the fam
Take it up with God
This mafia shit so for real
I had to pay my tithes

Don't you want to hear my last words?
I just did 'Chemist, let's get it

Murder is a tough thing to digest
30 with the green beam
Thuggin' in the projects
Learned to keep them killings clean
Had to cover my steps kept them Bernadines
Knew not to post them guns on the 'net
Streets is watchin'
Murder is a tough thing to digest
It's a slow process
So before you take cuts in that line
Murder is a tough thing to digest