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[Just Step Prelude] f. Big Noyd
Mobb Deep
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Yo son, tell 'em 'bout that bullshit they put you through
Yo son, word is bond, dun
Sometimes I wish I had 3 different faces
I'm going to court for 3 cases in 3 places
One in Queens, Manhattan, one in Brooklyn
The way things is looking, I'ma see central bookings
Facing 3 3 to 9's is mad time
After concurrent for assaulting 2 9's
I gotta maintain, 'cause stress on the brain
Can lead to a motherfucking suicide thing
And plus my probation, an L violation
How the fuck did I get in this tight situation?
I'm going all out, you know moves, I never fake
And fuck the jake, they can catch me at my wake
And if I die, burn a bag of blade
Put the lye in the air, sometimes I just don't care
Son, I got plans, power movements, get on some rude shit
I keep living like this, I might lose it
My mans coming home from doing long ass bids
What up, Kicko? I ain't seen your ass since we was kids
It's all strange, my niggas locked down thinking long range
And see their names in the Daily News third page
They sent a kite to my nigga Killa
It only took one sword to put 7 holes in a squealer
A 3 to 9 spending most of his time inside the bing
Recline, and still came home with his shine
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