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18 Two Words
Kanye West, Mos Def, Freeway, & The Boys Choir Of Harlem
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We in the streets, playa, get ya mail
It's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail
Still nowhere to go
Still nowhere to go
Now throw ya hands up, hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes
Everybody, fuck that
Still nowhere to go
Still nowhere to go
Two words, United States, no love, no breaks
Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, black folks
Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules
Presidential scandals, everybody move
Two words, Mos Def, K. West, hot shit
Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this
Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit
We won't stop shit, everybody move
Two words, BK, NY, Bed Stuy
Too hard, too hungry, too many, that's why
These streets know game, can't ball, don't play
Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move
Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit
Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this
Game 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock
We won't stop, everybody move
Now throw ya hands up, hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes (throw your hands up high)
Everybody, fuck that
Still nowhere to go
Still nowhere to go
And keep ya hands up, hustlers ('til they reach the sky)
Busters, boosters, hoes
Everybody, fuck that
Still nowhere to go
Still nowhere to go
Two words, Chi-town, South Side, worldwide
'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die
One neck, two chains, one waist, two gats
One wall, 20 plaques, dues paid, gimme that
I am limelight, Blueprint five mics
Go Getters rhyme like, should've been signed twice
Most imitated, Grammy nominated
Hotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated
Barbershop playa-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it
Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in
Two words, Chi-town raised me crazy
So I live by two words, "Fuck you, pay me"
Screaming, "Jesus, save me"
You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me
'Cause on judgment day, you gon' blame me
Look, God, it's the same me
And I basically know now, we get racially profiled
Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down
Plus I got a whole city to hold down
From the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now
Now throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('til they reach the sky)
Oh, everybody, fuck that
Still nowhere to go
Still nowhere to go
Two words, free way, two letters, AR
Turn y'all rap niggas to two words, fast runners
Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner
The heat skeet, blow a reef through ya car, my God
Two words, no guns, break arms
Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal
Free, young boss, freshman of the Roc
With the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl
Forget ya squad, better fend for yourself
Have you screaming out four words, send for the law, uh
Two words, freeway slightly retarded
Fuck around, throw a clip in ya artist, leave with his broad
Red, white, blue, black (throw your hands up)
Calm down, move back (throw your hands up)
Motherfuckers asking who is that?
You know it's the almighty Black Jack
Mos Def, K. West (throw your hands up)
Ghetto people, get this shit off ya chest (throw your hands up)
North to the south, to the east, to the west
Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest
(High) and show it to 'em like
And show it me here, I-
This is just some two track reference shit
Just to see how it works
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