Late 808

My mind warps and bends, floats the wind, count to ten

Meet the twin André Ben, welcome to the lion’s den

Original skin many men comprehend

I extend myself so you go out and tell a friend

Sin all depends on what you believing in

Faith is what you make it, that’s the hardest shit since MC Ren

Alien can blend right on in with your kin

Look again, cause I swear I spot one every now and then

It’s happening again, wish I could tell you when

André, this is André, y’all are just gon’ have to make amends

No jokin, I’m gettin paid fully

You wanna buy the cassette? Stop by Sam Goody

Yo where’s my hoodie? I wanna be hard and cause some ruckus

Dead in the middle of Little Italy, little did we know

That we riddled two middlemen who didn’t do diddily

Keep your enemies close, where they can see you.

It’s not your enemy who get you, it’s always your own people.

No question, I send your ass back, right to the essence

Your whole frame is smothered in dirt, now how you restin’

While I’ll be trapped by sounds, locked behind loops

Throwin’ …… off airplanes cause Cash Rules

Everything Around Me

To the college kids no scholarships, starting your semester

Unpacking your suitcases filling up your dresser

Enjoy it while you got it, after that it’s God bless ya

Life is your professor, you know that bitch is gon test ya

Yo, sit back relax catchin contacts, sip your congiac

And let’s all wash this money through this laundry mat

Sneak attack, a new cat sit back, worth top dollar

In fact, touch mines, and I’ll react like a Rottweiler

Late for everything, my face to the cement

That’s how I always seen it

I spent days faded and anemic

You could see it in my face, I ain’t been eatin’, I’m just wastin’ away

Looks like the way that River Phoenix went gon’ end up my fate

And when they drag me out the gutter, mail the ashes to my mother

Wherever he goes, I go, se, he me amigo

And we gonna ill

I am the leather jacket, black glasses, All-American bad boy

I own the swagga supermarket and you, you just a bag boy

Aiyyo, we got five boroughs of ghettos

With many places to meet, you get lost in busy streets

The city that never sleeps

Mecca, Medina, the population increase

The desert and the oasis, New York, the far East

With Gods and sheiks, pretty Amazons for weeks

Player dons that fleece, the family’s black sheep

Icons that teach, that we all act unique

Now as the sun starts to rise that’s my favorite part of day

No pollution in the air, no noises from the freeway

That’s when I focus on things that aren’t man made

Like the wind blowing, or heavy drops of rain

It ain’t over here it comes again

Hold it on my shoulders til I can’t hold it in

Life ain’t about what you see, it’s what you did

And when you get that it’s time to go again

Beware of my crime family

Who got ’nuff shots to share

For all of those who wanna profile and pose

Rock you in your face

Stab your brain with your nosebone

You’re all alone in these streets, cousin

I’m gonna rock this land

I’m gonna take this itty bitty world by storm

And I’m just getting warm

Flow like the breeze with ease of seven seas.

No doubt that making dollars make sense

But it really doesn’t matter that much in the end

It feels like something’s heating up, can I leave with you?

Don’t be a hard rock when you really are a gem.

They grow fast, one day she’s your little princess

Next day she talking boy business, what is this?

They say the coolest playas and foulest heart breakers in the world,

God gets us back, he makes us have precious little girls

I’ve been in this game for years, it made me an animal

It’s rules to this shit, I wrote me a manual

A step-by-step booklet for you to get

Your game on track, not your wig pushed back

I done came through the block in everything that’s fly
I’m like, Che Guevara with bling on, I’m complex
I never claimed to have wings on
….. I get mine, by any means on whenever there’s a drought
Get your umbrellas out because, that’s when I brainstorm

To da one on da flam

Boy it’s tough

I just toss that ham in the fryin’ pan

Like spam

It’s done when I come in

Slam

Damn, I feel like the Son of Sam

I got a call from my girl last week

She telling me about that time of the month, and how it may not come

Dropped the phone right before she said I might have a son

And I started asking God how come

I got dreams I ain’t reach yet, ends that ain’t meet yet

And when it comes to being a man, shit I’m barely getting my feet wet

I put my hand upon your hip

When I dip you dip we dip

You put your hand upon my hip

When you dip I dip we dip

Major MCs become minor B-flats

So retire the mic, get your chains and your bats

Here’s your chance to advance, get in your stance

I shoot the holster off your cowboy pants

Sick, sick dreams of picnic scenes

Two kids, 16 with M-16’s and 10 clips each

And them shits reach through six kids each

Dead in the middle of Little Italy

Little did we know that we riddled

some middleman who didn’t do diddly

Momma ain’t raised no fool

Put me anywhere on God’s green earth, I’ll triple my worth

Smooth—not what I am

Rough—cause’ I’m a man

City runnin wild, cats don’t give a fuck

Junior High students don’t say no to drugs

Liquor stores don’t ask shorties for their ID

This is a place where don’t nothin surprise me

And I don’t claim to know much, all I really know is

We were 17 once actin’ like we were immortals

I could kill it all day, but you can only kill me once

Shells lay around on the battleground

Dead bodies are found throughout the town

Tried to put shame in my game to make a name

I’mma put it on a bullet, put it in your brain

It’s not your enemy who get you, it’s always your own people