I Declare War

Aiyo the staircase bitches get fucked
Dutch guts cover the floor, some black marks cover the wall
Two Forty Warrior brawl, Who You the warrior’s call
They waitin' for the day the Warriors fall
Fuck you all, the King won’t rise from the throne
You peasents in the background tryin' to throw stones
Son I send my grey knights to pick out grave sites
Double-barrel at ya show, fake nigga caught stage fright
Kidna like a cage fight, shake it up, spray like Sprite
You never been a thug a day in ya life
You rap timid, act like you afraid of the mic
I come from the street, corners and buildings, play them at night
So I’m used to makin' split decisions
In front of the judge, I’ma plead the fifth amendment
My lawyer’s great, next best thing to Cochrane
I pop men, plus I’m mad nice in boxin'
It’s the year of the Two 4 and I declare war
That’s what we here for, we here for
Aiyo ask me how badly I need it
Badly enough to leave yo badly bleedin'
I leave you fags wheezin' with a hole in ya chest
Put ya head underwater, you could try holdin' ya breath
Profes, yea I’m back in the flesh
And we really pop guns, y’all just act on the set
Remember son, this is real life, you rap to a T.V. track
I’m rated R, they probably P.G. that
I’m beefin' for every fan out there that’s unsatisfied
Everything ain’t the shit, son, like it’s advertised
Don’t believe everything you read in them magazines
Most mics be given to niggaz who be havin' CREAM
Mean that everything is a pay off, even D.J. spins
Like they’re scared to let the P.J.'s in
I’ma bust down the door if it takes my life to do it
Then so be it, we got problems, I’m part of the solution
Yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
If you my peoples then stand up
Sentiment too evil to a snitch if I’m handcuffed
What? Oh, I’m what hip-hop's missin'
My proof is my music, all you gotta do is stop, listen, kid
Can you hear that? It’s the sound of The Great
Out of state in Seattle with the Mariners plates
When L.I.S. had the Marilyn gate
I used to sit, Carolyn carryin' cake to Larry and bake
I’m fuckin' the city, might as well marry the state
Fes Taylor got a soft spot for fatties and waists
Yo it’s serious, I ain’t the best period, name who is
My niggaz gon' change the biz, my niggaz gon' raid ya fridge
We ain’t eatin' right, act like we ain’t got a place to live
If I’m broke then, how I’m gon' raise my kid?
I grind hard, so he don’t go the way I did