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Tre Williams - Let There Be Light lyrics

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
[Lyrics from: https:/]

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'


[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

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