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letra de shit hits the fan - mobb deep

[godfather pt iii]
god d-mn, n-gga left bleeding with his head in his hands
wishing that he never crossed fam
and but still n-ggas like that get left slain
found days later on the ave in a can
we used to dance all night my main man
we used to give each other pounds wit da webs of our hands
its a cl!ck thing, yall n-ggas wouldn’t understand
we used to get off loose cracks and bag grams
hold each other down, duckin the blue van
the d’s on the roof, plus the 6-y cab
who’d ever thought u was a snake in the gr-ss
one of my stash whip and keys to my lab
you wanted me shot dead, some things you can’t have
i pulled out the 8, when you almost got stabbed
we followed the same path, cryed and shared laughs
now i can’t wait, for the day to see your bloodbath
plug dat, fill you up wit slugs rat take that…

[hook]
they never think sh-t stank, till sh-t hit the fan
n-ggas don’t think sh-t stank, till sh-t hit the fan
they don’t think sh-t stank, till sh-t hit the fan
n-ggas don’t think sh-t stank, till sh-t hit the fan
n-ggas don’t think sh-t stank, till sh-t hit the fan
they never think sh-t stank, till sh-t hit the fan
n-ggas don’t think sh-t stank, till sh-t hit them

[prodigy]
i’m in a benz for stealth, thinkin on plans
stopped at a red light, the birds like d-mn
i saw one whisper to the other, thats him
that mob n-gga i think he platinum
pulled to the next corner hopped out and asked them
if they knew directions to rhode island
we was in east new york, they thought i was wildin
its a cl!ck thing they wouldn’t understand
meanwhile i looks to my left and see some n-ggas frownin
as if they was go flip now peep this
i’m writin shorties math on the trunk of the six
the b-tch wanna blow d-ck cause its deep dish
these n-ggas wanna twist me because of my necklace
i’m calm though you know i got the stash in the whip
i clap though, these n-ggas better blast very quick
they coming towards me, i sat in the p-ssenger seat
reached underneath, grabbed the big fifth
acting like i’m not knowing whats happenin
i’m still havin conversation with these hens
i’m bout to have a confratation with these mens
i know i’m going home wit my chain and my head
yall won’t dead me, i sleep in my own bed (pop pop pop pop pop)

[hook]
n-ggas don’t think sh-t stank, till sh-t hit the fan
n-ggas don’t think sh-t stank, till sh-t hit the fan
n-ggas don’t think sh-t stank, till sh-t hit the fan
they don’t think sh-t stank, till sh-t hit the fan
they never think sh-t stank, till sh-t hit the fan
n-ggas don’t think sh-t stank, till sh-t hit the fan
n-ggas don’t think sh-t stank, till sh-t hit the fan
n-ggas don’t think sh-t stank, till sh-t hit them

- mobb deep

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