Younglord - You Ain't a k**er lyrics

[Production by Younglord] [Verse 1] The harsh realities of life are taking toll Even Jesus Christ forsake my soul Please tell me what price to pay to make it home Take control, I'm making dough but not enough to blow JO's, they lust my flows, but ayo, I don't trust a soul That's all I know or need to, these evil streets'll meet you Halfway and eat you alive trying to survive illegal I'll leave you lost, mount you on a cross Whip you like a horse, sacrifice your life to a higher force Then I'll stomp your corpse It's the Bronx of course, recognize the accent One of the last living still-in-action general a**a**ins Catching any wreck, blasting any TEC, smashing any chest Pa**ing any test; Charles Manson in the flesh Any last requests before you meet your maker? Sow what you reap or wake up Shaking up a storm, like Anita Baker I'll take you straight to Hell and fill your heart with hate Incarcerate your fate in Satan's fiery lake, then I lock the gate Make no mistake, this sh** as real as Joe We follow the k**er's code When we come for you, tell me: Where will you go? Nowhere to run, hide, I'll find you And and silence your screams And even if you k** me, I'll still be in your f**ing dreams [Hook] You ain't a k**er, you still learning how to walk From New York to Cali all the real n***as carry chalk Mark you for d**h Won't even talk that East or West crap From Watts to LeFrak It ain't where you're from, it's where's your gat [Verse 2] You've made a grave mistake Shouldn't have come here, you changed your fate Your brains'll make their debut on the table When I raise the stakes The pain is great, but only for a second It starts strong then lessens Just when you restin', the Armaggedon sets in Left him with so much stress (T.S.) Blessed him with no regrets, yes Welcome to Hell, son – the threshold of d**h Face the serpent, I blaze your person, you get laced for certain Leaving Jakes no trace to work from Close the case, like curtains I'm hurting heads severely, really trying to bring the pain There's nothing more satisfying Than when you crying, screaming my name It's not a game, it's Purple Rain, floods of bloodstains Big Pun's my thug's name Busting my guns, that's my love thang I'll slit your jug' vein and snatch your Adam's Apple John Madden-tackle your corpse To hoist it on a cross at the tabernacle That'll have to hurt, I'll work your body 'til it burst Then curse tu vida, like a Brujería verse I'm worse than anything you ever been through Sick in the head and mental Essentially meant to be the sole threat against you When you awaken, your manhood'll be taken Fakin' like you Satan, when I'm the rhyming abomination [Hook] You ain't a k**er, you still learning how to walk From New York to Cali all the real n***as carry chalk Mark you for d**h Won't even talk that East or West crap From Watts to LeFrak It ain't where you're from, it's where's your gat [Verse 3] It's hard to an*lyze which guys are spies; be advised, people We recognize who lies, it's all in the eyes, chico We read 'em and see 'em for what they are D's in undercover cars Taking my picture like I'm a f**ing star I'm up to par, my game is in a smash With half a million in the stash Pa**port with the gats, first name and last Ask anybody if my men are rowdy Give me the mini-shottie, I'll body a n***a for a penny probly I'm obligated to anything if it's crime related If it shine, I'll take it; still in my prime and I finally made it I hate the fact that I'm the last edition Properly a stash magician Could've went to college and been a mathematician Bad decisions kept me out the game Now I'm strictly out for cream Doing things to fiends I doubt you'll ever dream My team's the meanest thing you ever seen Measured by the Heaven's kings Down to the Devil's mezzanine I've never screamed so loud, I'm proud to be alive Most heads die by 25 or catch a quick three-to-five So be advised: the street's full of surprises It's not what crew's the livest One that survive, it's who's the wisest [Hook] You ain't a k**er, you still learning how to walk From New York to Cali all the real n***as carry chalk Mark you for d**h Won't even talk that East or West crap From Watts to LeFrak It ain't where you're from, it's where's your gat