For the live ones not the shook ones

For the riders not the hook ones

Immaculate conception like a black Madonna in mangers

My crew consist of millionaires failures and gangbangers

Say my name like Candyman

Then I'm creepin out the cut with a gallon in hand

I span forty nine states bounce rock skate

Similar to movin weight out of state

Lyrics lacerate spinal columns "I bury all cockroaches"

Stare in his face, Stomp-in on bustas like Kirk Franklin

Intrigued by the speed of a 911 Porsche? "But of course"

Still screaming Behold a Pale Horse

Watch my flame turn green like a Promethean torch

Pay no child support when me and my divorce

Some of y'all cats in the game look confused

Where's your butterfly collar and your crocadile shoes?

Gotta pay dues, street crews -- you know it's off the hook when

oh-three-one is gangbangin in Brooklyn

"Understandable smooth shit that murderers move with" --> Nas

To all my live ones, not my shook ones

"Understandable smooth shit that murderers move with" --> Nas

To all the riders, not the hook ones

"Understandable smooth shit that murderers move with" --> Nas

Music to live by, music to die by

"Understandable smooth shit that murderers move with" --> Nas

Uhh, Music to Driveby

I puff the Black & Mild, crusin on a Harley -- flickin ashes

Givin crazy baldheads the finger like Bob Marley

Suaver than synthetic players, that's my word

See ever since the days of Turkish gold chains and cross cords

Uncle Sam wanna play me on some

"All you people do is get on welfare and have crack babies"

Yeah maybe, but a lot of po-po is racists

they keep a brother fightin fede