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letra de 99 avirex - westside gunn

[intro: stove god cooks]
uh

[chorus: stove god cooks]
feds kicked the door, this the realest sh-t i never wrote
baby mama sped up in the benz screamin’ “let ’em go”
k!lled my young n-gga, was the realest one i ever known (k!lled my y—)
feds kicked the door, this the realest sh-t i never wrote (this the realest sh-t i never wrote)
sun shinin’ on my black skin
still got the birds going crazy, i’m tapped in
we was all broke, past tеnse, now we dance, bricks
hеrmès alligator jacket, the mac-10 (this the realest sh-t i never wrote)

[verse 1: az]
young, black and belligerent back in them tenements
backtrackin’ my innocence, crack was the genesis
g-packs and guinnesses, macks on the premises
all i envision is stacks when i reminisce
in the mix is mood swings, you do things
chasin’ cheddar, better lace your shoe strings
few scheme, others hate, in other states
your circle wrong, cases form another shape
off the blake and set aside, look what arrived
mobb deep presence with my mother eyes, i come alive
undenied is goat status, the most dappest
from old habits, i wrote classics, so graphic
lost phil, they k!lled will, paul dead
trav did a twelve in the feds with my coke head
low-res, picture blurry, peep the obituary
to f-ck the world, you gotta switch it for missionary
[chorus: stove god cooks & westside gunn]
feds kicked the door, this the realest sh-t i never wrote
baby mama sped up in the benz screamin’ “let ’em go”
k!lled my young n-gga, was the realest one i ever known (k!lled my y—)
feds kicked the door, this the realest sh-t i never wrote (this the realest sh-t i never wrote)
sun shinin’ on my black skin
still got the birds going crazy, i’m tapped in
we was all broke, past tense, now we dance, bricks
hermès alligator jacket, the mac-10 (this the realest sh-t i never wrote, ayo)

[verse 2: westside gunn]
made two fiends smack box, whoever won got a fifty (ah)
hater actin’, man down at the whitney (ah)
p-ssy staircases, p-ssy elevators, namesakes faded
pray that my new dope spot don’t get raided
bricks look so good, i didn’t want to break it
you ain’t ever spent a quarter mil’ in dope money on a painting
pacin’ with the draco
my rollie looked out of date, i spit in your mama face
the langerfield sofa match the prada drapes, shoppin’ ace
chop a kid finger off, you no compensate, you know how i operate (ah)
told my spanish plug meet at the monterey, ándale
started weighin’ at the days inn
some homies shinin’, some homies blazin’
spent seven hundred on jewels, my neck amazing
rest in peace chine gun, rest in peace bacon (ah)
[chorus: stove god cooks]
feds kicked the door, this the realest sh-t i never wrote
baby mama sped up in the benz screamin’ “let ’em go”
k!lled my young n-gga, was the realest one i ever known (k!lled my y—)
feds kicked the door, this the realest sh-t i never wrote (this the realest sh-t i never wrote)
sun shinin’ on my black skin
still got the birds going crazy, i’m tapped in
we was all broke, past tense, now we dance, bricks
hermès alligator jacket, the mac-10 (this the realest sh-t i never wrote)

[outro]
griselda by fashion rebels

- westside gunn

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