Mobb Deep, Big Noyd, HDM - Right Back At You (Original Version) lyrics
[Mobb Deep, Big Noyd, HDM - Right Back At You Original Version lyrics]
Now, '94 to '95, innocent without crime
(Drop that shit) Yeah, yeah, check it out
Now run for your life, or
You wanna get your heat, whatever
We can die together as long as I send your
Maggot ass to the essence
I don't give a fuck about my presence
I'm lost in the blocks of
Hate and can't wait
For the next crab nigga to step and meet fate
I'm lethal when I see you
There is no sequel 24-7, mac 11 is my people
So why do you wanna end
Your little life like this?
Cause now you've bump heads
With kids that's lifeless
I live by the day only if I survive
The last night, damn right
I ain't tryin' to fight
We can settle this like some grown
Men on the concrete floor
My slugs will put a stop to your hardcore
Ways of action, I grab the gat, then
Ain't no turning back when I start blastin'
Pick up the handle and insert the potion
Cock the shit back in a calm like motion
No signs of anger or fear cause
You the one in danger
Never share your plans with a stranger
Word is bond check it out, now
I put the drop on you kid, now I got you
You got the heart to get
Busy without your crew?
Let's get it on nigga, do what we gotta do
You buckin' me
I'm buckin' right back at you
I put the drop on you kid, now I got you
You got the heart to get
Busy without your crew?
Let's get it on nigga, do what we gotta do
You buckin' me
I'm buckin' right back at you
Check it out, Check it out, Check it out, now
Check it out, Check it out, Check it out, now
Check it out, Check it out, Check it out, now
Fuck where you're at kid
It's where you're from
Cause where I'm from
Niggas pack nothin' but the big guns
Around my way
Niggas don't got remorse for out-of-towners
Come through fronting and get
Stuffed with the 3-pounder
The loud sounder, ear ringer
And I'm a point the finger
At all you wannabe gunslingers
You got a real ice grill
But are you really real
Step to the hill and I'm
A test your gun skills
Cause real niggas don't try to profile
You just a chump who needs
To get drunk to buckwild
But swing that bullshit this way
And I'm a make your visit to
The bridge a motherfucking short stay
Queensbridge, that's where I'm from
The place where stars are born
And phony rappers get done
6 blocks and you might not make it through
What you gonna do when my whole
Crew is blazing at you
With macs and tecs to lend
To get your dome crush
You thought that you could come
Around my way you beef, stupid fuck
What the hell you smoking? What
The fuck possessed you
To come out your face, now I have to wet you
Throw on my Timbs
Black mask and black serpent
Twist a nigga cap, then jump in the J-30
Cause I'm -
I put the drop on you kid, now I got you
You got the heart to get
Busy without your crew?
Let's get it on nigga, do what we gotta do
You buckin' me
I'm buckin' right back at you
Straight up and down, Imma let you know now
You feel the gunshot bloaw from
The Red Eye style
Now pass the owl and let me roll the method
Shit’s hectic while I’m cested, where’s the
Mic? Let me wreck it, check it
My rugged rhyme
Lyrical design hit your spine
Every time that the Red Eye shine
Blinds the naked eye cause
They can’t see through
The smoked screen behind the scene
Stands the Red Eye crew now it’s true
My spiritual comes through my physical
Both connected by the method
Therefore I’m lyrical
So what you gonna down I come to pursue
With my Tec 22 and infra red on you?
For real
My laser beam likes to see when I squeeze
I’m like a sniper when I strike you
Steady busting from trees
MCs, you know my steez
I’m living trifle with the rifle
Punks I make them stifle feed
They ass to my disciples
My little thug's selling drugs
And he's struggling
The game got him bugging
I trying to tell him slow down cousin
But he vexed and niggas getting
Wet up in the projects but with no doubt
Shortie's out for his respect
But is his brain insane from the lye?
From smoking that one eighteen tiny tye
Why, a nigga just died last week
As he swore he was grown and
He's a thug in the street
And it's like that
My crew pump cracks and we pack macs
His eyes is wild with the
Rezzy monkey on his back
But I'm stressed and I need to be blessed
With a firepack, don't even go there cause
It ain't like that
Slow down baby, he said, what
You trying to play me? You must be crazy
Pulled out the heat and almost blazed me
Then he was Swayze
(Drop that shit) Yeah, yeah, check it out
Now run for your life, or
You wanna get your heat, whatever
We can die together as long as I send your
Maggot ass to the essence
I don't give a fuck about my presence
I'm lost in the blocks of
Hate and can't wait
For the next crab nigga to step and meet fate
I'm lethal when I see you
There is no sequel 24-7, mac 11 is my people
So why do you wanna end
Your little life like this?
Cause now you've bump heads
With kids that's lifeless
I live by the day only if I survive
The last night, damn right
I ain't tryin' to fight
We can settle this like some grown
Men on the concrete floor
My slugs will put a stop to your hardcore
Ways of action, I grab the gat, then
Ain't no turning back when I start blastin'
Pick up the handle and insert the potion
Cock the shit back in a calm like motion
No signs of anger or fear cause
You the one in danger
Never share your plans with a stranger
Word is bond check it out, now
I put the drop on you kid, now I got you
You got the heart to get
Busy without your crew?
Let's get it on nigga, do what we gotta do
You buckin' me
I'm buckin' right back at you
I put the drop on you kid, now I got you
You got the heart to get
Busy without your crew?
Let's get it on nigga, do what we gotta do
You buckin' me
I'm buckin' right back at you
Check it out, Check it out, Check it out, now
Check it out, Check it out, Check it out, now
Check it out, Check it out, Check it out, now
Fuck where you're at kid
It's where you're from
Cause where I'm from
Niggas pack nothin' but the big guns
Around my way
Niggas don't got remorse for out-of-towners
Come through fronting and get
Stuffed with the 3-pounder
The loud sounder, ear ringer
And I'm a point the finger
At all you wannabe gunslingers
You got a real ice grill
But are you really real
Step to the hill and I'm
A test your gun skills
Cause real niggas don't try to profile
You just a chump who needs
To get drunk to buckwild
But swing that bullshit this way
And I'm a make your visit to
The bridge a motherfucking short stay
Queensbridge, that's where I'm from
The place where stars are born
And phony rappers get done
6 blocks and you might not make it through
What you gonna do when my whole
Crew is blazing at you
With macs and tecs to lend
To get your dome crush
You thought that you could come
Around my way you beef, stupid fuck
What the hell you smoking? What
The fuck possessed you
To come out your face, now I have to wet you
Throw on my Timbs
Black mask and black serpent
Twist a nigga cap, then jump in the J-30
Cause I'm -
I put the drop on you kid, now I got you
You got the heart to get
Busy without your crew?
Let's get it on nigga, do what we gotta do
You buckin' me
I'm buckin' right back at you
Straight up and down, Imma let you know now
You feel the gunshot bloaw from
The Red Eye style
Now pass the owl and let me roll the method
Shit’s hectic while I’m cested, where’s the
Mic? Let me wreck it, check it
My rugged rhyme
Lyrical design hit your spine
Every time that the Red Eye shine
Blinds the naked eye cause
They can’t see through
The smoked screen behind the scene
Stands the Red Eye crew now it’s true
My spiritual comes through my physical
Both connected by the method
Therefore I’m lyrical
So what you gonna down I come to pursue
With my Tec 22 and infra red on you?
For real
My laser beam likes to see when I squeeze
I’m like a sniper when I strike you
Steady busting from trees
MCs, you know my steez
I’m living trifle with the rifle
Punks I make them stifle feed
They ass to my disciples
My little thug's selling drugs
And he's struggling
The game got him bugging
I trying to tell him slow down cousin
But he vexed and niggas getting
Wet up in the projects but with no doubt
Shortie's out for his respect
But is his brain insane from the lye?
From smoking that one eighteen tiny tye
Why, a nigga just died last week
As he swore he was grown and
He's a thug in the street
And it's like that
My crew pump cracks and we pack macs
His eyes is wild with the
Rezzy monkey on his back
But I'm stressed and I need to be blessed
With a firepack, don't even go there cause
It ain't like that
Slow down baby, he said, what
You trying to play me? You must be crazy
Pulled out the heat and almost blazed me
Then he was Swayze