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• Artiste: Mobb Deep
• Titre: Score Points
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Oh, you tough? Tough guy now? Okay You preyin' on the weak ones over there I see you, okay You wouldn't do that shit to a real gangster, nigga Fuck is up? Boy, y'all niggas know who to do that shit Do that shit to me Do that shit to me, bring that shit over here, yo What the fuck, yo? Y'all niggas ain't tough Fuck is going on? Yeah, yo, look I feel strange every day like somethin' 'bout to happen bad Prepared for the worst, anticipate the best I think positive, but my thoughts have undertones I do my best to keep it balanced, but it thunder rolls Keep a storm brewin' Don't make God strike lightning on your body Get your life ruined My intuition forces mе to pay attention Like AK-47s force bullеts through them vests My ears pierce you, I see clear through Too much murder, my emotions are fear-proof My friends' bodies was riddled with bullets They killed Yammy with a bat, he ain't see it comin' They shot my cousin Manu in the face with the Uzi And we still out here thuggin', yeah, yeah, it's not a movie Scrubbin' blood out the carpet of the back seat I'll ride around for days lookin' for you, actually, ah Thought you knew somethin', but you ain't know a fuck' thing We thought you was hard, you really just a soft ting I'm not a bully, I don't prey on weaklings You speakin' like you tough, get treated like you mean it You only score points on a gangster You only get points if they real You only score points if they violated You only earn points if they squeal Think about my life and all the moments I could've folded But never folded, no lies, or sugarcoated Sit you down like COVID My brain overloaded with that bullshit Y'all niggas spit, that's duly noted You ain't low, nigga, I peeped it, you ain't notice In the corner, all by my delf, 'cause I'm the chosen I be knowin' my own strength Keep these cowards at arm length I don't sweat or let that shit stress, I trust the process When it pop off, you disappear like rabbit-in-hat tricks In that last song, bragged about how you gonna clap shit All your math wrong, the way you move, lookin' ass-backwards Perhaps it's the fact you niggas really not factors They attention whores, chasin' clout 'til they get that bloody mouth Yap for that money pouch and jewelry things Yeah, the cat's out the bag, you ain't like that, nigga Pull they skirt up, they workin' with vagina, nigga Thought you knew somethin', but you ain't know a fuck' thing We thought you was hard, you really just a soft ting I'm not a bully, I don't prey on weaklings You speakin' like you tough, get treated like you mean it You only score points on a gangster You only get points if they real You only score points if they violated You only earn points if they squeal