We Gonna Ill

"You know we gonna ill" -->scratched<br>What...set it off what<br>My nigga Prim<br>Black Poet<br><br>[Verse 1]<br>Fuck the dumb shit, niggaz want drama<br>You know who to come kid, the cappital P the o-et<br>Smash motherfuckers up, crush motherfuckers up<br>Leave your body in the closet for a motherfucking month<br>Niggaz know my flow`s relentless I said it I ment this<br>Niggaz get high, bitches get bent<br>Everybody knows Poet`s on some hood shit<br>I wake every thug around the world tryin` to get rich<br>If you`re doing your thing then slinging your thing<br>You know and I know nigga better bang<br>Watch them hoes, watch them snakes<br>Real niggaz in the game, fuck who ???<br>Real niggaz in the game knows what it takes<br>And real niggaz let you know what`s real and fake<br>Like my nigga Primo, he reach stile to me yo<br>Whereever he goes, I go, se, he me amigo<br>And we gonna ill<br><br>[Chorus: scratching by DJ Premier]<br><br>"You know we gonna ill" 2X<br>"With love to those who died in the field<br> So many names we don`t got room to spit them"<br>"This ain`t a game nigga"<br>"You know we gonna ill" 3X<br><br>[Verse 2]<br>What, what, aha, yeah, yeah<br><br>I sat back I watch ya niggaz and clacked ya niggaz<br>Played you on my box since I put rocks and figures<br>Got it through this life, drugs chop my shit, nigga<br>Lyrics gotta throw blood kill ya weak niggaz<br>Represent, all thugs and all money getters<br>I live some green and blings and shit that glitters<br>And plus, the word on the street is<br>I hotter then 2 blaze of 9 millimetres<br>You can`t belive this<br>A&R`s, they pullin out their heads<br>They get fierd `cause they havd a nigga right there<br>CEO`s screaming "why the fuck yu didn`t sign `em?"<br>"He brought in a mansion and a hot boy diamands"<br>Should have gave me the world, stupid fuck<br>Look how I`m rhymin`, wildin`, calmin`, poundin`, grindin`<br>I ain`t lyin`<br>Mad niggaz try with me, die with me<br>Belive it nigga, you don`t wanna have to colide with me<br>We gonna ill<br><br>[Chorus]<br><br>[Verse 3]<br>Yo, got it together now, Mo` to them now<br>Rest in peace pops, and my moms, I can`t let it down<br>Queensbridge representative, style`s unlimeted<br>Hot shots, hot rocks, I`m sendin` it<br>Who else you know get flow like Po`<br>For the love of this shit, and not the dough<br>I write my own rhymes `cause I like this shit to death<br>Niggaz don`t got respect, they just writin` the ceques<br>I might sell 10 mill if I learned some stacks<br>And bleach my skin and front like I`m from the projects<br>But all I can be is me, and catch wreck<br>As far as the eye can see, my whole set<br>Screwball gang-stars, comin` in planes and cars<br>Moet bottles with your brains on the ??? at the bar<br>From now on, shit is gettin more real<br>My niggaz in QB, I`m leaving you to heal<br>`cause I`m off the wall and I`m Illmaticly ill<br><br>[Chorus]<br><br>Female singer:(X2)<br><br>You know and I know, shit is real<br>Poet and Primo, them niggaz gon` ill<br>The whole industry`s about, blacks and feal<br>Poet and Primo, them niggaz gon` ill<br><br>You know, I know, we gonna ill (X2)<br>We`re gonna ill...