Bombay - Red & Gold lyrics

[Verse 1: Prodigy] Yeah, grown up thug sh**, I fell in love with Crime at a young age, I was into dark sh** So much pain, I didn't fear anything Destined to be a king, word to everything The infamous lil n***a from the island, Hempstead get dough and get violent Shoutout to terrace, park side, the shacks in Martin Luther King Drive Dusty lil hood n***as love my raps, they identify with me, they can relate to that Big gin gallon, lil black strap, put you to sleep real quick, lil cat nap You wake up in a few months, now how that happen? Dummy motherf**er got his dome [?] [Verse 2: Blu] Damn, it was a wrap with the window cracked The jakes thought it was the crack in the lac, he had the sister crack Was on my D and let the sisters pa**, was on my G, the Capri 83s with the mirror match I never banged Crip til I hang with Crips, you lucky I ain't had a eight on my hip You seen days when you seen K's, was on gauge thinking I ain't seen a gauge, turn the gauge to the ink pen 88 she sat on the plates, told her I was 83 bagged the whole race Gold chains on my chest, you need a vest just to be the best I'm from the West where the realest rest, and the sun sets The sun woke up to the bump, with the blunt wet Thirty minutes after the hour, for the ones fetched It was a Sunday when I did the album and got my first Jesus piece from my uncle Calvin Cause I'm a [Verse 3: Mitchy Slick] Only here by the grace of Jah, jumped out and [?] Where each time bad b**h chase the car Mandatory too far for a drop out in the Golden State and I was clocking [?] everyday like it was just for play Product of the government's foul play, a eighties kid and it was twice the trip cause back then it was mainly Crips We're fashionably su-wooping with a [?] of conscience Impressionably my eyes wide through the nonsense, switch hit no h*mo Lil n***a wanted nothing more than to come home with a trophy after winning the car show Not too many managed to avoid the gathletes, but it's no deterring once a young lad turned savage Hoop dreams turn to coupe dreams, cause on the average once he 14 He damu and grabs him a package [Verse 4: Phil Da Agony] He starts screaming, grab a pitchfork stab a devil demon I seen him, Pro-activis promethazine leaning Dreaming with the sun out, d**h threats I pull my gun out, your best bet is to run out What you talkin' bout? I air em out like tires Apply pressure with a pair of pliers, sing em like Jeremiah Esquire swagging in a G wagon bragging bout, toe-tagging Blowing fire out a dragon mouth, down south or back east, they say out west you a beast Call me in the morning take two of these, blue and greens by any means You a fiend, shoot him up with music like New Orleans, talking that patois mardi gras Hardy har, you don't go nowhere without your bodyguard Gang Starr Party hard, started off on Crescent Heights boulevard, finished it All my n***as guilty slash innocent