DJ Premier - Do It 4 lyrics

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DJ Premier - Do It 4 lyrics

[Intro: sample from the TV show "The Wire"] We gotta think about what we got in this game for, man. Huh? Was it the rep? Was it so our names could ring out on some f**ing ghetto street corner, man? [Verse 1: A.G.] We bang for the corners, bang for the streets Jail n***as love us for the story that we tellin' Convicted felon, few misdemeanors Screaming for the n***as in the bleachers Paid on Friday, broke on Monday All that really matter, he was hung over Sunday Spit it for my lil n***a sitting on the step Black & Mild or the Dutch in his left Henny in his right, fire on his waist Running from parole, with an open case These ghetto girls do something to me It's like Cupid just threw something through me It's a wrap, ask Kool G Especially when I say what I write on the loose-leaf Kids in the cla**, stuck in the zone Ain't really concerned with tryna be known Staying outta trouble, live where I live Hear all the sirens, that's where he call home For hip-hop heads that love it cuz it's real No matter where they from, understand how we feel Pump us in a iPod, pump us in a Jeep In tune with the words, in tune with the beats On the grind make room for the feast And one thing we ain't is in tune with the beast [Hook: A.G.] We bang for the streets, we bang for the corners Do it for the hip-hop heads that support us Do it for the chicks that love us for the rawness He do it with an MP, I do it with a cordless [Intro sample again] [Verse 2: A.G.] We bang for the corners, bang for the streets Pioneers love us for the torch that we carry Fire burn in my mind like Carrie I write it then I light it See I don't really care if you can't see my view It's only for a few Only for the ones that knew The art, the culture, the sound, the love From then on it grew Bang for the bodies that's left on the block The hood is a cemetery, k**ings don't stop n***as on the corner like they trading off stocks The climate, the market is hot, hot, hot Yeah I think not Used to go to parties that ended in shots Lost in translation, music for my nation And I don't care about a radio station The South Bronx, right where it ain't safe at Better learn the game, ain't no take-backs I make the music for the place I was raised at We bang, bang, shots n***a take that Show and A, related to the struggle Do it for the boosters, do it for the hustle Put it in your iPod, put it in your Jeep In tune with the words, in tune with the beats