(feat. Ali Vegas, Eyeslow, L.S.)



[Intro: Eyeslow (sample)]

(If you got something to say

Why don't you just come out and say it)

Brother's grave... hey let me tell you something

Knawhatimean, we up in here, man

Favorite the rapper, of favorite the rapper

Like my nigga Ali Vegas would say, youknowhatimsayin

If your ghost writer's ghost writer, ask around



[Chorus x2: L.S.]

When the wind blows

And we know, you ain't gon' find ya way home

Storm gets cold

Try'nna see through rain, hail, sleet, snow



[Eyeslow]

From off the devil's ledge

Come the throughbread, dagger double edge

Hammer sledge, can't be no rap Quentin Tarantino

Rhymin' like G and Nino, I'm convinced, I'm the best

Spittin' none to less, fuck the rest, I'm unimpressed

Don't make me get the gun and vest, and make examples

I used to make samples, and pass them out

Now I keep the ratchet by the pillow when I'm crashin' out

So I'm never caught sleepin', get caught creepin' and that ass is out

Eyeslow's the name, the ruger to your brain

Left a blood stain on the passenger side of your range

Fuck the games, the circle dot dot and the cootie shots

I leave my tooly cocked, and strip a game to his booty socks



[Chorus x2]



[Ali Vegas]

I play the block like Elgin, do

They said they could die young, that make me eligible

My baby brother said when you on top

Niggaz intend to wanna put lead in you

But when you on the bottom, niggaz wanna step on you

I told 'em, don't worry, I'm two guns ahead of you

But when you shining again, they wanna rep with you

They say you are what you eat, so ya'll can't blame me

This year I turn brolic niggaz into vegetables

And my back against the wall, and I'm brawlin'

You act hard and I'm stallin', streets ain't come with caller ID's

So I couldn't see when God was callin', the odds was fallin'

Grab two arms and clap and applaude, and look

Y'all want problems? Ya'll welcomed like the door mat

Ya'll bore cats, with your store bought raps

And ya'll had to study my format, ya'll want war?

Ya'll ain't ready for war yet, yea you rich, but you can't

Really afford that, you ain't study your forty eight laws yet

Plus I got the blueprints, to where you snore at

See how these critics do? They get critical

Then they get political, one line can get rid of you

They say I chase the top two, well if this is true

Wouldn't I have to remove the paper to fill in the picture drew

You niggaz do like these chickens do

Sit around, and gossip, like ya'll ain't got shit to do

I'm startin' to think, it's not what I say, but the shit I do

No record out, still my digits grew

Niggaz sayin' Veg' signed to Motolla, nope

Get your rumors straight, Vegas is signing Motolla

I think it's about, time that I told ya

I spend so much time in the Rover, fuck the beat

I rhyme to the motors, sittin' on 20's, providing I own 'em

The flow's low like I was rhyming in shoulder

Then I speed it up -- gotta pardon me ya'll

I was dippin' from traffic, at the time that I wrote 'em

Ya'll know 'em, you wanna shine? Your best bet is to stand in the sun

Not a blood or a crip, like vendetta in the slum

I don't give pounds, unless I'm handing them guns

And I don't weigh back, when I'm brandishin' one

To understand where I'm going, you gotta understand where I'm from

And ya'll ain't understanding me, huh?

Somewhere down the line, I guess we got loss

But I'mma stay hood, like cold chicken and hot sauce

So whose consumin' the throne, I put two in your dome

The only time my niggaz work, is for funeral home

Cuz they'll body kids, I cried when they body B.I.G

And I'mma hold Queens down, just like John Gotti did, what?



[Outro: L.S.]

When the wind blows..