Shyheim - The Surah lyrics

(feat. Gutta) [Intro: Show Stoppa] Yeah, sh** crazy out here, man Nahwhatimean? We in the streets For real, though, we livin' the sh** Lotta n***az is talkin' the sh**, man Nahwhatimean, every day is a struggle Feel me, uh... yeah, Show Stoppa, man Gutta! Aiyo [Show Stoppa] These cold thoughts got me hot sweatin' Pictures in my mind, blood, we tryin' hurry Like a center rush, I don't get it And I can't catch it, see when you mock me Life a dream, with a message, but I can't catch it Got me all jammed up, like burn a wall, with the hammer You try to pop, it's all jammed up Soft skin gettin' tough, and the paper got me missin' Salot And the paper got me pitchin' the rock I hate baseball, wait, y'all We drop bombs, hail mary, you should listen to Pac Mention Pac, gotta mention Biggie So I got a fat black hammer fam, they call it biggie You wishin' I give you one more chance, I ain't Biggie co*k that thang back, blaow, is you ready to die? They said he thoughtless, heartless and out of control But I'm a m**m, mock me, just watchin' my soul Believe, Latin laha, in Allah No God, but Allah, and Muhammed is his messenger But you hot, wound up, disectin' ya Body all open, 26 shots'll leave ya body all open S.K., bisectin' ya, and the lead and shells is hot, dog If it's a loud beef, get ate like a hot doog We m**m, and it get no realer than that You can't touch a Monk, man, and just look over And he stuck around, now I'm spillin' the gat Dressed in black face mask, grillin' the cafer I submit with to will of Allah, with no rat P-R-A-Y, five times a day, I put my hair down Seven days a week, I put my hair down 12 months a year, all year round, m**ms put they hair down [Shyheim] Whose the kid with his mugshot on the cover of the Source Shy show you how to rob n***az, not in a rap song That's 3 minutes and 45 seconds too long I could hold a pale horse, blowin' a Newport short Nobody does it bigger than my Bottom Up n***az So much coke on the street, I put Pepsi out of business Shove my metal in your mouth, like braces, but I'm not dentist Hip hop fans that listen, don't want me to finish this mischief I'm a little, so I'mma pray for these n***az Like, Allah, please forgive 'em, for testin' Shyheim Cuz, he does not know that, I am a prophet And the pro with them two's, cuz I use, is my logic I'm everywhere, so keep your head up, like a Pac head k** me or I'mma k** you, n***a f** it [Interlude: Show Stoppa] Shyheim, is crazy right? Nahwhatimean, we for real out here, Gutta! [Chorus x2: Show Stoppa] If it's beef, then it's to eat, mission that Before we get, homey, I keep stuff Allah Better ask for forgiveness, homey, y'all law Cuz everybody won't make it to the promissed land [5 Mics] My struggles is deep, my pain is deep Got me in trouble in these streets, my faith is week I try to stay focused, but the, pain is hell 24 hours a day, hit a dormant cell I used to go to truma, duece and do 36 rock gots New surahs, and mad ayats Til my faith got it week, started hittin' the block Put the Koran down, just a pitch on the block Look at me now, Sa-tan, got me ditchin' the cops I know I'll probably feel of fire, when my casket drop Dogs, I full a stomach full of flees and birds When n***az do, robberies, crush crack to crumbs I'm from Brooklyn, where n***az get found in they Benz With the back of the medula, splashed out on the tint Where the money and church collide, and the gangstas ride They double barrel, have you a** leavin' all I can ride This is my turf, since young, I've been puttin' in work Survive, I guess, like throwback jersey shirts Five beat a n***a, that'll twist your ride I'm hood, crooked teeth, n***az what the fifth's about Eat your food, have you sh**tin' out, like hillbillies Chew tobacco, my ocks be, spittin' out Leave you stretched in your truck, with your braids in the back I'm from Brooklyn, n***a, I was trained with the gat Lived my live in the streets, I know about homicide How to hustle, and bang, when the drama ride Pitch crack on the block, where the G's be at Rock Timbs, army fatigues, ski masks and hats Oh Allah, why do my pain, gotta be so harsh I never destined to be hood, and thrown in cop cars Gutta, Bottom Up, Shyheim, walk with me [Bucks] Ever since the days of playin' the dirt Been through it, jeans, things you never in, up in my knees in it Cop a bird, and wing it, the work, debris spinach Tappin' the surah, til the fans and them in it I excede the limit, put the weed in the middle With a crack batch, lit it, sever my peritheal vision Seen myself diminish, and use a cannon When my sh** touchin', clear up your aim and kitchen But I ain't, gettin' it, so the sound of you doing dishes Sit up it, like some Latin bangin' pursuin' the vicious Continous when I picture it, where Allah fit 'em When you try to get it, and where do the law fit in And when will it stop, I don't make, I just break the rules Reasons for me to make, will do a dent Officer Lat, academics for the things I do When I'm too busy with the things I do And it's becoming a problem, how I'mma say the beef is so loud When they conflict, stutter from some mirage sh** The consequences, the end of a long clip Long trip to the trauma center, you harm a m**m I even look, long at a sister I'm tellin' you, it's the wrong decision Pull heat, put it til you put a hole in the center, I know I'm a sinner That's the least I can do, n***a