(feat. Cha-Cronz, RZA)



[Intro: RZA (Shacronz)]

Peace To The God, What Up, What Up?

Shacronz, Free Murda, What's The Word-Word, Son? (What Up Bobby?)

Ain't Nothing, Just Living, Son (Looking Good Baby)

But You Know How We Do It, You Knowhatimean (What You Got On Right There, Baby?)

Oh, On The Feet, Son? You Know I Got The Ill Wu-Wear Slaps On My Feet, Son

(Nobody Got Those... What's Those Son?) Yeah, I Got The Roc-A-Wear Sweats

Popping Right Here, Thunn

Knowhatimean (Hold Up, Son, What The Fuck Is That.. Yo What's That Bulging Out

Your Jacket, Son?)



[Chorus: Free Murda (Run-Dmc Sample)]

My, Black, Ninas, Bust Through Project Doors

Fake Suspect 85's, On The Floor

Cops Yell 'raid', I Wasn't Afraid

And I Won't Stop Busting, Til I Get Paid

Black Ninas... ("My, A..." *Scratched Up*)



[Shacronz:]

Everyday I Live This Thug Shit, Surrounded By Plus Whips

Sitting On Dubs, Bitch, I Run With A Rough Click

Dare One Of Ya'll To Say Something About My Team

I Know You Fake Gangstas Out Your Lean

Shoot Through Your Heart, Choke You Up, Then Rip Out Your Spleen

If There's A Drought In New York, I'm Down South With Fiends

Cash Rule Everything, So Give It Up, Pa

Stash, Jewels, Everything, We Glittered Up, Pa

Rocking Your Shit, Popping Your Bitch

Send Fire, Raise An Empire, Copping More Bricks

From A Place Where The Chicks Holding, Ride Or Die

Walk With A Switch, Hips Swollen, Pitch Coke And Crack

Get Money, Til I Die, Hit Honeys Til I Fry

Grew Up Grungy, Hungry Til I Ride

Apply Pressure, Time's Short, Need This Project Cake

Lean On 'em, Like Project Gates



[Chorus]



[Free Murda:]

C.C.F., Yo The Whole Hood On Some Shit, Niggas Is Sheisty

Can't Explain How Them Faggots In The P's, Might Be

All Stick Each Other, Like Teens Holding Tightly

Try And Light Me, Be The Last Nigga You Might See

Your Wifey, Grieving In The Morgue, That Like Me

I Splash You, Have Your Gash, Look Like The Swoosh From Nike

Fucking Freaking Bodies In The Process, Get You Clapped By My Set

Ya'll Niggas Doggin' Free, You Gon' Die Wet

Chicks In The P's Hoeing, Them Bitches Stay Blowing

Them Bitches Stay Boning, My Guns Stay Toting

Stick Niggas That Be Holding, When I Clap Ya'll Folding

Leave Foods In The Streets, Soaking

K-Tone In My Crib, Loading

Brown Flag On My Wrist Rolling, Head Shots Til Ya'll Open

Up Like A Store In The Morning

Have You Laying Dead In The Train Station Like A Rodent



[Chorus]