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| Benzino Miscellaneous Die Another Day [Benzino] Lord help us, my peoples bein' raped (uh) Deliver me from evil and I sell his devils faith Lets take a closer look at what's really happenin' He wants you to believe that it was all about rappin' And all I try to do is open up my niggas eyes It wasn't about me and Em, you gotta realise It's just a smokescreen, my niggas there's a bigger picture I want the streets to pay attention cause I'm ridin' with ya This credibility is what we here for Then why ain't the hoods sellin' units no more (tell me why) Labels actin' like it's good so they say so EPMD was always gold with no radio Now it's time to turn the prophesy, times up Marshall Mathers gotta die, rise up No choise, the only way we gonna turn this shit around Is put this little bitch in the ground And this so cald kings, steady going at eachother Do songs with the devil, while they fightin' with there brothers Sell a house, fuckin' pitiful, we always just some drama Let 'em slide through then they devide, conquer And every plantation got a bunch a house niggas D12, Shady Records just a bunch of house niggas Obie Trice, is for security in your front lobby Better call the secret service, if you gonna stop me (blaah) Paul Rosenberg, you fat fuckin' pig I'm holdin you responsable for what this bitch did (kill ya) Cause you call me up, try to cop or plead As far as I'm concerned you both gonna bleed (bitch) Talkin' bout he wanna fight, please Let's set that shit up quick so I can drop him to his knees You let a clown clown you, how insane is that You let em tonguekiss your wife when you had a gat How you gonna have a gun with no bullets Oh don't worry cause when I see you I'm gonna pul it (blaah) You dyed ya hear blond, I'm a make it red How you gonna sell records Marshall when you dead Motherfuck make you pay for that bullshit you talkin' I'm goin' hard in the streets of New York and Just ask Chuck how we ran 'em outta Boston He should have been killed left in the coffin And you better keep my kids out ya fuckin' mouth Before I put a glock in yo' mutherfuckin' mouth Tell Haley it ain't safe no more (nah) Daddy better watch yo' back at the candystore We Fucked up, resort to plan B Fuck around she and up like Jon Benet Ramsey (that's right) Matter of fact you better check the DNA (what) She probably ain't yours, and where's your wife Kim anyway She's on her knees somewhere suckin' 50 Cent I know you wishin' you were there cause you on his dick You dress in drag, you huggin' up on Elton John You closet fag, I'm a king you a little punk You the rap david doer the rap bibler The coacher stealer, niggas ain't with ya I'm the rap Hewey, the rap Malcolm, the rap Martin Don't worry I'm a finish what we started And everybody who wanna scream Pac's name You don't make a difference, you in it for the fame Cause if Pac was livin', he would shoot this bitch alive But I'm a do it for him, if the hood must survive You sleep with five O, you walk with the feds Better keep the lights on, when they tuck you into bed Cause I'm a get yo' silly ass, find out where you lay When Debbie set you up you gonna die another day |
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