Prodigy Of Mobb Deep - The Infamous Prelude lyrics

Yeah yeah yeah Yeah yeah yeah Hold the f** up We gonna take this little intermission to listen To what the f** I got to say, you know I been doing this sh** for years: Holding heat, selling Using, abusing all kinds of d**; Robbing n***as, running up in n***as' cribs You know, the whole sh** So don't ever in your life get me confused With some of them other n***as that you might see On TV Or hear on the radio and such Know what I'm saying? I mean, this is me: P I'm speaking for my f**ing self When you see me: At the show Or on stage Or on the street I DEFINITELY got the gat on me You know what I'm saying? And it ain't like I'm trying to be a tough guy Or trying to make people think I'm crazy By sayin' all this sh** But what it is, dat: I know how n***as gets down, alright? I used to be in the clubs: The Muse, The Tunnel, whatever the f** n***as get they little drink on Havin' Fun with they little crew (You know what I'm saying) Start cuttin' / shootin' / whatever Things like that A lot of these so-called "rap n***as" Ain't never seen no parts of that sh** You know what I'm saying You dig where I'm coming from? Word up, yo And I know a lot of y'all n***as — Matter of fact, all y'all n***as Is right now listening to this sh** Is like: "We gonna see them Mobb Deep n***as We gonna see what they about Know what I'm saying, touch them n***as We gonna see where they head is at." So yo I'm gonna let you n***as know right now: You ain't gotta waste your time Or your money On your hospital bills And if you step to me on a personal level I don't back down easy There's a good chance your a** is gonna get Shot, stabbed, or knuckled down One out of the three So don't gamble with your life, duke Word up And believe me: I know very well I could get shot, stabbed or f**ed up too, whatever — I ain't "Super n***a" /, I'm a little skinny motherf**a It's all about who gets who first, though You know what I'm sayin? So therefore, say no more To all my n***as: Get the money Frontin' n***as get deceased And, oh yeah, to all them rap-a** n***as With your half-a**ed rhymes Talking about how much you get high, how much weed you smoke And that crazy space sh** that don't even make no sense: Don't ever speak to me when you see me, know what I'm saying, word I'ma have to get on some ole "high school" sh** Start punching n***as in they face just for living Yo, I'm finished what I had to say Ya'll can continue on