Prodigy of Mobb Deep - Can’t Complain (Featuring Twin Gambino & Chinky) lyrics

Hello, hello, yo what up, man?
Who the fuck is this?
Who the fuck it sound like, man?
What the fuck you calling so early for, man?
What the fuck time is it?
It's like 3 o'clock, man
Thought you was coming to get me, man?
Shit, my bad son, please, man, come get me
Man, before I choke this bitch, man
Hurry up, son, man, it's like 90, man
Let's get some hoes or something
What up, dun? Same ol' shit
No doubt, ain't nothing new
Let's take a little spin, dun, word up
Yo, open my wings to a
New day spread my lungs
Get laced, jump in the whip, stash the guns
Twist the key, shifted to D then flee
Before anything, get the daily dose of choke
We got the Benzo flooded with
Smoke on the float


My eye's burnin' from the
Dope killin' my throat
Lean my seat a taste
Lumbar support on the belt
Doin' 90 or more debatin' on
The latest rhyme wars
Where unit's don't count
But your rap pay add up to large amounts
Get my thrills puttin' other
Nigga's skills to sleep
Catch chills off a infamous beats
Swing the trees doin' one handed u'ees
Blowin' on the ouwee 'cause we
Can't have the medicine canoein'
There go the boys to the right
No days and nights like that
Ayyo, dun, hold that down and turn it around
Dirty as fuck, thugs drugs and guns
D's and fatigues
T N T hopin' out of MPV's
Surprise all a fuck out of me
Got rubber Glocks pointed at me
Ayyo Twin, what the fuck?
They had us laid out on
The ground holdin' us down
With gats to back of our
Heads was goin' down
It wasn't us that held up that bitch you got
Where's the proof
Man? Let me speak to my attorney
I know the routine, don't try to throw me
I been gettin' knocked since 12 and
My moms tried to scold me
But all that told me to get in more shit
Ayyo P, what up? You my co-D
We both get knocked
What you did with that half a tree?
(Right in my sock)
Yo, I hope these fuckin' dicks
Won't find the stash spot
Dun, you know how I get down?
Yo I'm ready to bounce
Do the 100 yard dash and tear ass
If my other half was alive we woulda got kill
'Cause dun woulda went for the
Guns and got ill plus I gots cracks on me
They found the cracks on me
Looked at'em, gave'em back to me
I could swore they was takin' us in
Then the lady in the car said
"that's not them"
Picked us up, told me I could keep the drugs
They didn't give a fuck
They was only lookin' for guns
And you ain't gotta tell us twice
We hopped in the car and slid off
On our way up-town for more of that funk
P lit the tree back up
Got off the Tri-burrough, hit the Henry Huds
Fuck it, let's slide through the Rutgers
Roll the windows down 'cause
Infamous Mobb bumpers
Skip To My Lou had the crowd jumpin'
Took a walk through the park frontin'
Didn't even have to hurt nuttin'
Man, I love it
Ain't nothin' like summer in New York
Hear Infamous Thoughts
Then the Dream Team music starts
Damn, we young black entrepreneurs
New York pricks and dicks
Can't stop our floss
We like organized crime, the fuckin' Mobb
I'm only twenty-six playin'
Wit' serious cards
Dead serious cash, luxurious labs
Learn to balance fame with pain
You can't complain
Jus' another day livin' in the hood
Jus' another day around the way
Feelin' good today, oh no
We can't complain
Jus' another day livin' in New York
Dealin' with the jakes and the snakes
Feelin' good today
We hit 'em up 'cause we here to stay