Children of the Corn, Bloodshed, Cam’ron - Harlem USA (Uptown) lyrics

Aiyo
You better back up, or y'all get smacked up
Or better yet clapped up
I dare your ass to act up you hear me
Yeah I rather off that you near me
I'd rather have you fear me
Then have your mother teary eyed
Flowers, candles, 40 bottles where he died
Know he lied
(But the young kid had to show his pride)
See I run with Mr kid
Y'all have a twisted wig
Playing RKelly, when you know my ass Mr biggs
Right fella
You don't want no parts of me par
Come deep, THREE CARS, wild kids from PR
On the creep (yeah) straight from the street
And the number 1 rule don't
Shit where you eat cause I had them hired
They come back they wired
Asking me for work, but I told them I retired
Cause, I seen the scripture
Change up and bitch up
So when you come to me yo
Believe you getting frisked up why

It don't matter what you do or say
We capping you, kilo capital, Harlem USA

COC's the Posse, roll like the Nazis
Blood Debiasi, rule like Kadafi
Coming out of Harlem the land of the stardom
Yeah huh we ballin' problems we start em
Problems we solve 'em, 38 revolve 'em
Flee from the scene quick
Hop in the beam whip like we ain't seen shit
Shook cats is calling
Sneaky undercovers cause you know that
They be all in the business
Always trying to lock us with the quickness
Have a nigga suit and tie
Standing on the witness
Front and be a goner, or just play the corner
Smoke the marijuana
Aka ganja from California
Makes me feel calmer, dealing
With the streets, they hot like a suana
The block spot musclers
Low high jeans fiends is customers
Here in the land of the hustlers

It don't matter what you do or say
We capping you, kilo capital, Harlem USA