Shyheim, IMF Blue Steele - Got the Nerve lyrics
[Shyheim, IMF Blue Steele - Got the Nerve lyrics]
Aiyo, it seems like
New York forgot about Jay
No, this song is not about Jay
It's about the way, the game is spoiled
It's a wrap like the game is foil
My pain is for you, I miss you Grandpop
Yeah, nigga, loyal, I miss you BIG, Pac
How many deaths I got to watch?
When I was young
My first death was Scott LaRock
And I was like, eleven or twelve
Whoever killed him
I hope that nigga dead or in jail
I know it's not a person that can't pass away
But they ain't have to do
That to Jam Master Jay
And it's a damn shame
How y'all can't explain
How Pac got murdered, or BIG got killed
It's a dirty game
I guess I gotta live with y'all filth
But, I'm stuck in this ship that y'all built
And when I first met hip hop
Everything was dope or hype
And it was dope to write
It wasn't dope to bite
And rap was war, ropes with ice
And you was fresh
In the fresh pair of them Flights
Old tonics, and the Caddy low
Bumping Stetsasonic and Daddy-O
But look where you had me go
Way back there, I wish it stayd back there
Lo and behold they still got the gold
And a bucket of dimes and
They all still rhyme
A bunch of lies, and they got the
Nerve to sell it to you, you
Yo, it seem like New York forgot about Biggie
No, this song is not about Biggie
It's about the city, and how I really
Realize, these rap niggas high saddity
Y'all got too pretty
The block like "Who is he?
He ain't the same nigga from before
Before he got that Benz
Before he went on tour
He used to be right out here
In front of the stores
Now he acting different since
He won 'em awards
So the hood don't want him no more"
Cuz he changed up
But he still trying to claim us
Thinking we gon' love him cuz he famous
Shit, shit, you getting money from them shows
We getting money from these O's
Looking bummy in our clothes
And tell me it's a hold cuz it's never full
Keep the clips in our berettas full
And uh, if you turn around and look
Then you could simply see
Before that Bentley V before that MVP
You was probably on the bench with me
Contemplenting on that Bentley V
And every night I stand up
Pulling my pants up on the corner with an L
Getting closer to cancer
Hoping the answers'll come to
Me on the script
Car flipped, with the semi on my hip
Son, my city is the shit
All this shining, all this grinding
All this lying
And they got the nerve to sell it to you
All this shining, all this grinding
All y'all lying
And y'all got the nerve to sell it to who?
New York forgot about Jay
No, this song is not about Jay
It's about the way, the game is spoiled
It's a wrap like the game is foil
My pain is for you, I miss you Grandpop
Yeah, nigga, loyal, I miss you BIG, Pac
How many deaths I got to watch?
When I was young
My first death was Scott LaRock
And I was like, eleven or twelve
Whoever killed him
I hope that nigga dead or in jail
I know it's not a person that can't pass away
But they ain't have to do
That to Jam Master Jay
And it's a damn shame
How y'all can't explain
How Pac got murdered, or BIG got killed
It's a dirty game
I guess I gotta live with y'all filth
But, I'm stuck in this ship that y'all built
And when I first met hip hop
Everything was dope or hype
And it was dope to write
It wasn't dope to bite
And rap was war, ropes with ice
And you was fresh
In the fresh pair of them Flights
Old tonics, and the Caddy low
Bumping Stetsasonic and Daddy-O
But look where you had me go
Way back there, I wish it stayd back there
Lo and behold they still got the gold
And a bucket of dimes and
They all still rhyme
A bunch of lies, and they got the
Nerve to sell it to you, you
Yo, it seem like New York forgot about Biggie
No, this song is not about Biggie
It's about the city, and how I really
Realize, these rap niggas high saddity
Y'all got too pretty
The block like "Who is he?
He ain't the same nigga from before
Before he got that Benz
Before he went on tour
He used to be right out here
In front of the stores
Now he acting different since
He won 'em awards
So the hood don't want him no more"
Cuz he changed up
But he still trying to claim us
Thinking we gon' love him cuz he famous
Shit, shit, you getting money from them shows
We getting money from these O's
Looking bummy in our clothes
And tell me it's a hold cuz it's never full
Keep the clips in our berettas full
And uh, if you turn around and look
Then you could simply see
Before that Bentley V before that MVP
You was probably on the bench with me
Contemplenting on that Bentley V
And every night I stand up
Pulling my pants up on the corner with an L
Getting closer to cancer
Hoping the answers'll come to
Me on the script
Car flipped, with the semi on my hip
Son, my city is the shit
All this shining, all this grinding
All this lying
And they got the nerve to sell it to you
All this shining, all this grinding
All y'all lying
And y'all got the nerve to sell it to who?