Ghostface Killah, Adrian Younge, Scarub - Rise Up lyrics

[Ghostface Killah, Adrian Younge, Scarub - Rise Up lyrics]

Back on the grind
Molotov bottles and pipe bombs
There's war on the streets like Vietnam
Bodies is flung, enemies hung
Capos is killed
Kidnap your family and wives with no guilt
No lines drawn
It's all out war for domination
Robbing safes in safe houses
No leaving traces
Destruction, Black mafiosos and militants
It's all for the king of New
York and they killing it

Crime wave, rioting
Streets flooded with blood
Bullet holes through tuxedos
Wet suit surfs up
Big Kahuna with the cajones
Come through with your homies
Shoot the Ruger where your dome is


While you in your chones
Then regroup up with my homies
Less they can't run a crew
Split the loot up with the chromies
In a room with a view
Watch the corners, they on us
Laying low with the clues
Guzzle cash, that's the walls of how to wait
Got a few i don't get out much
I'm in the cut with my crew
A clan of vicious guerrillas
Banana clips aimed at you
Itchy fingers, malicious killers
Valicious my troop
Come to pillage your village
Level your root to the stoop
Trigonometry, honestly, nigga, I'm a G
Follow these streets scholarly
All would I do for this loot
Figure courage be piling the change upon us
To slaughter it, yeah, it's heartless
I've gotta get deadbeat loose
The Luger's rain, man
Ain't nothing but purp bitch
That's the cane clan
They ain't nothing to fuck with
My tools say blam, change man to chump bit's
Fools gonna lay in the Hudson or some ditch
Rolling slow with a gangster lean
Pimped out in the Coupe de ville '72
Lock and load on patrol
Lotta hoes on the stroll
Give me street 411 like whoop-de-whoop
Where's the cane man? How many nights
I live by this dupe?
Names change like slang
Still be aiming to shoot
Call it pop-pop poacher and note
The 45 will rise up

Message worth it's weight in gold, he a beast
When God made his son, he broke the mold
Crushing De Lucas, they tryna dismember cane
Silly game
Watch his downfall, put an end to it
Street laws
Gangsters pulling murders and drive-bys
New York city, flood the
Streets with cyanide, poison
The boys in blue don't want none of it
Watching cane ride the power
And I'm loving it

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