Pete Rock - Checkmate lyrics

[Intro] Every time you make a good run at me I just threaten your queen and back you go You're treatin' her like she's the last lady on Earth Your queen is just a pawn with a lot of fancy moves Nothing more When you see you're playin' a man who feels naked without his lady Jump in there and take her... threaten her And he won't be able to think about his game anymore That's when you make your real move [Verse 1: Boy-Moore] Yo, yo Is there any love in this world n***a I don't know It seems I got a lot of friends and a lot of foes Steady rollin' my weed up, wit at least three hoes Out of my day, summertime dry flipping i got it made These n***as wanna parlay but ain't putting in work It's like turning on your homies when you doing your dirt Make you mad cause you one deep In these streets thinking, "Damn, will my n***as really ride for me?" A lot n***as try to act hard, but really weak And be them same n***as at home that's losing sleep When my gold Jesus piece, turn silver I turn my back on it See I ain't with that fake sh** homie I keep it real, loose lips sink sh** n***a keep stunting n***a keep running, when them n***as on yo block gone keep it one hunnid I heard 17 shots just last Monday, lil n***a looked just like me Baggy jeans, fitted cap, and a fresh white tee Back in my younger days I used to rock it like G He went to this party after watching this movie That was themed by the same thing that he'd just seen Actin' out his favorite scene, bad b**hes and cold drinks But when you 19 you just don't seem to think n***as plotting on your soul like they did at me They looking for your gold and your j**elries See they know you from the burbs and they think you weak This n***a pulled out a piece, and them shots rang out Lil homie running scared shot dead to the ground And these n***as foul, and that sh** is wild [Verse 2: Flowbot Jone$] Get one thing straight, I don't spit lyrics I grant blessings Socrates spirit tasked with asking grand questions It's Flowbot Jone$, spit mo' hot poems as lessons Number one, don't let short tempers run to long stretches Two, there's more than red and green, see past the present Three, use talent you blessed with, mine you'll never guess it Keep C4 in my spine to make these chords explosives Cause when you get dough a boa's got sordid motions Keep toasters holstered, and ask you what it's hitting for I spit him four, he heart attacked and hit the floor sh** his corpse, I tried to tell him these are d**h notes And that spitting nightly, not like me, is what gives strep throat But I digress, on to hormones and pheromones Making who*es moan and cause terror with Pharaoh bones After our bodies make music, it's changing the sheets But remaining a beast check the feral tones Fangs, scales, claws, and all, swear that I was born from Smaug Or born from God, but got a horn that prods Scorned, never to mourn and sob Exceptions all my tracks, my body of work's adorned in gauze