[Born Divine]
Yo, your boy Born back, one hot track
Another masterpiece for all my hood n***as
The sting in the street, trying to survive, man
We gotta get right and take care of fam
So we hustle son, and play the block heavy
I never snitch and never ran, when the chops sweat me
I earn my stripes, listen, from the streets to prison
n***as know me, dog, and my divine mission
I got the game now, like me and money green
On the compound, yo, this a lock down
And yea as clear as dawn and harm city Born
Reppin' B-More for life, with that heat drawn
I'm bout to take off boy, light years gone
Lightspeed on, I breeze by, like whooo
The way you going, to the top, man
I can't stop fam, can't you n***as, tell?
Look at this cartel, we moving weight now
My CD's jamming like they told vows
My flow so different, with so many styles
Plus my voice ill, you boys better chill
Cuz my fam k**, shhh, don't squeal
Wheels peel out, and the darkness appear
Like roaches when they see the lights
You better get it right, cuz we ain't come to fight, ight?
[Cappadonna]
Sick with the flows, I spit for hoes
I grind everyday, f** cheeks in they holes
Spark my yae, I'm still ghetto, with t-shirts
Jeans hard and stiff, I don't give a f**
sh**, my Skwad is thick, we don't fall back
f**, we in charge of the sh**, fly suit, red Havana Joe's
m**m oil, I'm hood, n***a, what? Man, you know I'm spoiled
New York City, what, you know I'm loyal
Baltimore City, I got love for you
Popped off the first time that I ever saw you
Murdaland mixed with New York music
It's something in the cosmic, making me use this
I move slick, jump over c*nts, prostitutes b**h
Get up to my hair, the grooves is a b**h
The Better Life, more papers, hoes and fishsticks
Biscuits, sneak 'em in the club, icepicks
Me and Clayborne, yo, we keep us a nice chick
The police they ain't got us in they vicegrips
[Little Clayway]
Chilling in a nice whip, staying on some real sh**
Look kid, we got sk**s to pay the bills, and eat a meal, for real
Even if a n***a gotta get k**ed
I'mma get mine, f** standing in that checkline, waiting on the government
I'd rather grab the tech nine, f**, go through hard times
All the time, it's rough on the brother
Got the d's, to stick up hoes and my baby mother
Not a lover, I gotta use the rubber with the chick
Can't trust her, child support sending me case numbers
Game is sour, streets going under
Uh, money is power, we ain't getting younger
Yo, I'm like a lion with a five day hunger
And I shine like the sun, in the middle of summer
Uh, give me a beat and I flip that
Start a record label and show you how I did that
Give me some dat, you know it cost n***as some stacks
Plus a n***a did it from scratch
Used to be pushing them cracks, when a n***a had
BBS's on the Ac', caught a flashback
Grown now, speaking on facts
Still talk slow when I rap, my n***a Cap
My n***a Born in the back
Wu-Tang, Clayway, what's f**ing with that?
[Chorus 2X: Cappadonna]
My gang gon' kick ya'll a**
My gang gon' kick ya'll a**
My gang gon' kick ya'll a**
And stomp ya'll n***as out
[Outro: DJ Fontane]
Yeah, the Better Life Movement
Masterminds Productions
Your boy DJ Fontane, Clayway Records
You know how we hold it down
Wu-South, uh