Masta k**a - Medina (East New York) lyrics

[Intro: Masta k**a] It's original, everything we do Everything we do, is original It's from the heart, that's right Always remember that, we keep it original That's right, the foundation [Masta k**a] We was known for sad love ballads and guns The rude one beg no friend, the selection's threatening Never hesitate, dusty murder gun, tray eight Bust head, known to regulate War physically on the rule to rule a date All I can recall was white and bright lights The doctors and nurses, drunked the old earth And k**ed the pain of the breech birth Under the influence, I arrived at Brooklyn Jewish Now a tree grows, standing ovation Peace signs, salute to my nation Brooklyn, it's good to be home Gun shot blown, stay calm, don't be alarmed Respect is being shown, for real Weight like six s** till, followed by the walk-by Intensify pressure apply to the hands that hold mics Strike like the Pai Me Nine [Interlude: Masta k**a] Peace, my n***a (yeah) That's that funny style a** n***a over there Ain't nothin' changed, still hot out here Snitches... [Masta k**a] It's about 90 degree, in the project Two bedroom, no A.C., God Degree low Metal fans spinnin' hot air slow I refuse to go, I'm determined to build Watch me turn gas into million stacks of cash Never lost on the cook-up, n***as can't walk the grounds From which they came Foundation never was strong, you ain't the same Brothers is doing real time, it's not a game Straight poet, no comeback, check out how the fiends react Yo, shots lick, Wu lots and Nash' fit Not many walk the streets, if not, few deep n***as get robbed by b**hes in they sleep He didn't understand, how well connected How fast that a** get sent to the essence My mic blessing, from the 120 Lesson Crys' and the Henny' to seed, when I breath One Blood, guest star me and Junior Reid Meet me at the highest peak, God Mountain Twenty nine thousand and some, from the Slum They love gun, who you think taught 'em how to bust them, son? Yo, who you think taught 'em how to bust them, son? [Interlude: Masta k**a] Yo, yeah, that's how they do it When I'm writing I'm trapped in between the lines I escape, yo... Chill with the feedback, black we don't need that Nah, they don't need that bullsh** Heh, shame on you, when you step through to Ya'll muthaf**as know [Masta k**a] Bullet fragment, the colorful brain has his name He earned that stripe, no question, that's his lesson Cut amongst organizations, then snitched? You b**h, actin' like you thug and...