Ah

What's mine's I love, and I fight, push to shove
Hand to hand?, but you can't stop the love
You push to impress, and I leave you with less
It's real love for the mics that I bless, no quest'

What's mine's I love, and I fight, push to shove
Hand to hand?, but you can't stop the love
You push to impress, and I leave you with less
It's real love for the mics that I bless, no quest

Can't stop the love, I know you sayin' I'ma young *****
Don't get it ***ked up 'cause I move with them thug *****s
From old, to life we straight sparkin' light
Bring light to the darkest nights

Blast, blast, P in your area
(M, O)
Make a move and them cats might bury ya
Now that your trapped and your ***kin' with thugs
Let me tell your punk *** what I love

I love to see mother***kers, that show no love
And start speakin' out like a ***** when you catch 'em in the club
I love, when a slug cat shut down
And then try to post up when they damn near cut his *** down

I love, trying to reach all parts of the map
On a Ninja, with a big Buddha ***** on a back
I love, cats that rap and still drip checks
Like your man Lil' Fame, Bill Danze and triple x

What's mine's I love, and I fight, push to shove
Hand to hand?, but you can't stop the love
You push to impress, and I leave you with less
It's real love for the mics that I bless, no quest'

Aiyo, you know what I love
(What's that?)
It's when mother***kers ***ume
That they *** can't get popped at 12 o'clock in the afternoon
I got the balls to come through your walls, like
(Boom)

Have an ****** every time I clear the ***kin' room
Nah, not just yet
(*****s is gone)
I need to see you son of a *****es sweat
What I got, son, my **** is prop', son
(I love)

With Prem' in the drivin' seat and Freddie Fox ridin' shotgun
Here is the ultimate
(Stop son)
Somethin' I love is when thugs be bumpin' my ****
*****s with heat, *****s that's deep
(I love, I love)

*****s that regulate the streets
(Sho' nuff)
Mic blessin, Smith and Wessun caressin'
With the Desert Storm impression
(First family)
The lesson, I advise if your not ready to ride
On the homicide side, ***** slide

What's mine's I love, and I fight, push to shove
Hand to hand?, but you can't stop the love
You push to impress, and I leave you with less
It's real love for the mics that I bless, no quest'

I love beats that are hardcore, dirty and raw
I love takin' *****s burners when they scared to draw
I love plottin' on my enemies, I love to attack
I love beatin' *****s down when they rhymes is whack

I love seeing emcees struggle to make
Themselves something that us real *****s love to hate
It's too late, I love my Ninas and I love my, fours
Blowin' holes through the project doors in, knive wars, *****

I love the feeling, and the rush that I get
From, Sam, run the Rolex watch with the diamond begets
I love, how my life was intact without a deal
How I kept the newest chromes on my automobile

I love the fact that rappers make the dough, without a flow
Soft *****s, that I stain, like piss in the snow
I love the fact that I survived through the roughest of times
And break the mic when I want, with the roughest of rhymes

It's a luxury to see me emcee
It's so hard, this lyrical brutality, feed's a *****'s mentality
I love, when you *****s claim to be great
Knowin' your mob ain't never lettin' ****, what the ***k is this?

*****s bustin' shots on New York, I get my vest on
Twenty rhyme clips in my mic, I get my bless on
Loan soldier standin' on the front line, I fear none
Excuses that you give me for your lyrics, I hear none

You niggs ain't no real emcee's
You Sam Goody *** *****s can't write without suckin' down trees
So I love, laughin' at you *****s, while you clappin' at me
I split your head shot from your man, while he's slappin' at me

I feel the hits from your rounds
Your hollow points make a ***** wobble
But, I won't fall down

Yeah, you mother***kers see it, come on

What's mine's I love, and I fight, push to shove
Hand to hand?, but you can't stop the love
You push to impress, and I leave you with less
It's real love for the mics that I bless, no quest'

Aiyo, aiyo, aiyo
For all them sucka *** *****s that don't know, when
I crawl up out the whole
And I got M.O.P. with me, baby, ain't nowhere

You can run ain't nowhere you can hide
(To the life)
With hot slugs at both sides
Split your back open wide
*****s from the East Side