Tre Williams - Let There Be Light lyrics

[Intro] Yeah, check check, testing It's clear out there, yeah It's like I'm hang glidin' over the hood, ha Never worry (ohhh, no, no, no) [Verse 1] Check, let there be light No gang bangin' in New York tonight Just murals of Biggie Smalls, bigger than life Turn up the kid mic ‘cause ya'll ain't listenin' right What's all this talk that Nas got bought? I'd rather outline my body in white chalk Ain't nobody been where I been, they at a stand still This is all overseen by my man Will [Hook: Tre Williams] As I walk through the valley of the shadow of d**h I know that I ain't got much time left And they don't really wanna see the good in me Ain't satisfied until they see the fool in me And I know my business, so my sins great And I thank the hood for all the love they gave And I forgive 'em all, they did they best to hate Oh, let there be light! [Verse 2] This ain't to glorify, just painting a street picture There's no guidance or Bibles, just blunts and swishers Gillettes cut 'caine in kitchen Now every rapper wanna claim he hang with Kenneth "Supreme" McGriff, and It's like the same difference except when n***as get arraigned They don't want the same sentence, n***as get to snitchin If I could reverse demises and turn falls to rises And bring back the n***as who was livest Old hustlers, reminiscing on better days They home, doing nothing, might as well be in a cage Hating on young brothers, one foot in the grave They used to love us Till we found our own way through the maze New York, set trippin' and flaggin' Got the West Coast laughin' Now Esco's askin', "What happened?" My homegirl from upper Manhattan; she remembers the quarters that's Latin, a lot of rat-a-tat-tattin' [Hook] [Verse 3] The son of the audio ca**ette era, TEC wearer Bullets and baguettes, Benz Bose Speaker Terror Deman I get mine till I'm dead, so I can drive somethin' red Like that horse standing on it's hind legs Since Arnold and Willis in they bunk beds I wanted bread like Wonder Not Ned the Wino like the parents of Lionel Nas is the Ghetto American Idol No matter what you do you're never getting my title I can't sound smart, ‘cause y'all will run away They say I ain't hungry no more and I don't talk about yay Like there's no other way for a ex-hustler Cake getter, the ex-wig splitter to touch you, I beg to differ When you're four years into the game We can have a conversation Eight years in the game, I invite you on vacation Ten years in the game, after I've enjoyed my fame Only then I let you pick my brain, n***as [Bridge: Nas + (Tre Williams)] [And I] Right about now [And I] (They don't really know) [And I] (They don't really see) I don't even deal with all that garbage (No, no, no) We getting real right, you know? [And I] (Though I walk through the valley) That is Tre Williams, ladies and gentlemen [And I] (They should fear no) [And I] (no, no-oh) Focus on good things, man, good times, heh-heh, alright [Hook] – 2X (with alterations) Oh let it be, let it be, yeah Let it be, let it be