Classic P talkin' shyt on the predlude
Yeah yeah yeah
Yeah yeah yeah
Hold the fukk up
We gonna take this little intermission to listen
To what the fukk I got to say, you know
I been doing this shyt for years:
Holding heat, selling
Using, abusing all kinds of drugs;
Robbing nikkas, running up in nikkas' cribs
You know, the whole shyt
So don't ever in your life get me confused
With some of them other nikkas that you might see
On TV
Or hear on the radio and such
Know what I'm saying?
I mean, this is me:
P
I'm speaking for my fukking self
When you see me:
At the show
Or on stage
Or on the street
I DEFINITELY got the gat on me
You know what I'm saying?
And it ain't like I'm trying to be a tough guy
Or trying to make people think I'm crazy
By sayin' all this shyt
But what it is, dat:
I know how nikkas gets down, alright?
I used to be in the clubs:
The Muse,
The Tunnel, whatever the fukk
nikkas get they little drink on
Havin'
Fun with they little crew
(You know what I'm saying)
Start cuttin' / shootin' / whatever
Things like that
A lot of these so-called "rap nikkas"
Ain't never seen no parts of that shyt
You know what I'm saying
You dig where I'm coming from?
Word up, yo
And I know a lot of y'all nikkas —
Matter of fact, all y'all nikkas
Is right now listening to this shyt
Is like:
"We gonna see them Mobb Deep nikkas
We gonna see what they about
Know what I'm saying
We gonna see where they head is at."
So yo
I'm gonna let you nikkas know right now:
You ain't gotta waste your time
Or your money
On your hospital bills
And if you step to me on a personal level
I don't back down easy
There's a good chance your ass is gonna get
Shot, stabbed, or
knuckled down
One out of the three
So don't gamble with your life, duke
Word up
And believe me:
I know very well I could get shot, stabbed or fukked up too, whatever
— I ain't "Super nikka" /,
I'm a little skinny motherfukka
It's all about who gets who first, though
You know what I'm sayin?
So therefore, say no more
To all my nikkas: Get the money
Frontin' nikkas get deceased
And, oh yeah,
to all them rap-ass nikkas
With your half-assed rhymes
Talking about how much you get high, how much weed you smoke
And that crazy space shyt that don't even make no sense:
Don't ever speak to me when you see me, know what I'm saying, word
I'ma have to get on some ole "high school" shyt
Start punching nikkas in they face just for living
Yo, I'm finished what I had to say
Ya'll can continue on