Cookin Soul - Student of The Game lyrics

N.O.R.E I feel like something special 'bout to happen Queens n***a but the meetings be up in Manhattan Move the packs fast, hoops ain't full crick We up to cook another one, bullsh** We should have the hood Olympics, a cook off Let's see which coke is terrific and who is gifted With the coffee pot, baking Soda, cookie jar Let us separate the hustlers from the rookies ya'll I knew enough Spanish not to get jerked when I bought work Plus plus, plus I let my gun off, beserk Got my cousins in the pink houses, never had job n***as They was into murdering, kidnaps and rob n***as I was to rhyme as a hobby in my building lobby f**in up ounces, take it back to quarters then Wholesales with StarKim, even Sha Waterman Fast forward, got locked for a shooting Hit Spafford, back when Latin kings first recruitin Locked in the zone, mind separate - guidance counselor I went to school with a weapon, not for protection Just to show it off, but I'm gon really use it The power of the gun, it gave me strength, I would abuse it I never ever ever thought I'd make it out in music Started writing rhymes harder, and to vision the youth Locked up, reading Donald Goines's books Expanding my imagination, I got creative with the pen doe Started writing rhymes loud the streets, that was symbol My persona identified Hood pride, logical, wrote about the blocks, streets and the obstacles Man, this sh** work when you think about it I mean I still get money when you think about it Rap, probably saved my life twice wit it I'm still nice wit it, let's forget all the ice wit ice Forget my accolades and other big things I did I was a wild kid, I would've ran up in yo crib Remember war report, CNN legacy Hip-hop pedigree, rhymes is a felony Student of the game, I take responsibility Give me tranquility so n***as can't belittle me I'm still doing what I do way past you This album's home the heart, sorta feel like I have to Prove sh**, do the new sh** And the true school sh**, wild with the deuces Little guns for the little guns gala Blade back, in a leather couch, harawana Eye vision clearer, I love who I see in the mirror I couldn't make that clearer Try to compete with a real street n***a Doing street sh**, you as soft as aloe vera hah? (Cookin Soul Scratches) Something special bout to happen Queens n***a, Queens n***a I'm still nice with it Cook another one Separate the hustlers from the rookies ya'll CNN, CNN legacy Hip-hop hop pedigree Rhymes is a felony Bill doin wuddup dude? True school sh**, real street n***as