Mobb Deep - Back at You (clean) lyrics

(Havoc) Ashes to ashes, dust to dust Stainless steel gats Never rust big till bust you could touch Blessed wit the real side of life Just enough You couldn't fight me wit your strongest mic Layed down n***as eyes visualize bad reception Maced your interference souped your upperbody section I travel like a 2-2 bullet Throughout your body, repped to the fullest Queensbridge representin Representin the hollow tip crew Blue slips, seen ships, you talk sh** I follow through Once the kite is sent I might get bent, but still planted No second thoughts, cuz my conscience is demandin For the bloodshed(bloodshed) I leave that mug red(mug red) I'm like cancer can't catch me cuz I done spread(done spread) Gone now dead, enough said from the scene I fled Wit the paranoid thoughts runnin round my head It's like that war, project n***as strike back it's on What the f** you sick I'll be right back Wit the gat and temper end your motherf**in era Your shortie set you up you betta dead-her Hunger for the cheddar big ends and better Armeretto sours alcohol consumption Why you runnin we thumpin Do to the fact the infamous is bumpin Ice real son you frontin Chorus repeat*4 It's like that war, project n***as strike back it's on What the f** you sick, I'll be right back Prodigy Right back to the fact that Here take that, right back at you Were goin at to Already ran through Wasn't hard to capture, what is it that your goin after The fourty-fifth will make your clothes damper Put in the hamper The fabulous Infamous is movin stainless Crime-tainin, to all my n***as hold your bangin Live in action, if you weere dapped then relax then What the f** you said? I be right back real maxin Blastin, terrin up your Fila fashion Give him what he askin feelin ain't know what happened Back at the cabin, be at the round table plannin Spread team across plannin, expansion Slap a n***a opened handly style something foul For tryin to slow down, my cash pile a hundred mile I can recall the days, juvenile crime pays 14 years old, shorty from round way Brick a** cold, still puffin night to day But why did my life have to be this way I rock Velour suits, flavors like mixed fruits My loot give recoup razors in my suit Incase you try to troop me to the island I known for start whylin Back in New York, my shortie's got the cash pilin Peep this on some knowns and teef sh** So much drama, who the f** knows who we got beef wit Lift you up off your feet like ski lift For packin big fifth n***as who riff but n***a you riff Then Im on the next life gettin bent in the clouds On my way down souh for international crowds Chorus