Half-A-Mill - Still lyrics

[Intro: Half-A-Mill] Uh huh, still, yea, yea, yea Half-A-Mill, uh huh, uh huh For the hood, yea, millennium style Uh uh, still, uh yea [Verse 1] I peel out ill maneuvers on d's like they could shoot the breeze I rather shoot through Coupe while only two could squeeze The name is Gates, ill porch, wit the gangues plates Computer rise, Rolex different coats gang dates Sling away from the projects to a greater estate On some Millennium sh**, still spray an eight Heroin heron, fiends 'nortin to the zero Methadone clinics is finished since I hit the hood wit 'em kilos Deadly heart bean-o, straight haze out the purple jars Double park in front of Tito, dunn my chips lay like Fritos Ill pimp, chicks take a glipse and turn into freak hoes I rock Illmatic mostgenos Still at might see me peel ratchets off Tuxedo Ghetto ba*tard, metal or plastic, auto reload Smuggle the guns all across the East Coast [Chorus: Half-A-Mill] **repeat 2X** Still gangsta, (still) still ghetto, still street (still) Still real, still roll wit the heat (still) Still got bricks for 16, still spit 16 on the beat Still gettin cream in the street [Verse 2] I seen it all, most of y'all n***as is Mr. Magoo I sip Cris eat freshly steamed fish from Peru I always wanted -- a money green six To match the money Gucci case, get money dunny I'm use to this Street soldier, sh** is real, f** what he told ya Cuz he gon' die when the heat get closer Yesterday I had a meetin wit Sosa Seven bottles of Belvey, its been 4 years he's seem to get loca Gutierrez gleam my whole team is eatin the coasta Uncle Seenos cut your hands off catch ya cheatin the poker Son we from the slums, Medicaid cart, played in the abandoned cars Watch dreds sell grams to moms, grew up in time of rock heads I reminisce on all the block heads, most is locked up or shot dead All praises is due to the pot heads, and the pit bull n***as Who trained dogs to hold the block down and spot feds [Chorus: Half-A-Mill] **repeat 2X** [Verse 3] Minked wit the hoody camouflage jeans Brooklyn n***as play the hood deep Oozy spray the hood up your jeep Hustle for OT to OC Out of the country on British Airlines 3 ki's plus a baby monkey, Firm Soprano Tinted out Suburban, cable TV, satellite dish 10,000 channels, still love the hood, When I was younger Mama made me stand on the line for bu*ter n thats gutter Pops nortin off Heroin, one love to the O God Who took me to Midtown show me how to get on Snatch pockets wit the left arm, but guessin sean professional don Land a private jet in Brook-lon Nowadays we livin, stay in the sky like Pigeons Blue berry haze on stage wit twilight visions One love for all my dunns doin life in prison One love to all the rest of 'em who life is missin, but listen [Chorus: Half-A-Mill] **repeat 2X** [Outro: Half-A-Mill] Knawmean? Delaware, DC, yea Still, dirty South, West Coast, all Coast OT, OC, even out of space, yea, husbands everywhere They still gon' be here dun, Half-A-Mill-ion, the don Phenomonan one, yea, still