Bright Lights, Big City
[Verse 1:]
Even dough low still Mobb Deep infamous never sleep
Like the city just you life sheik
Oh barkeep, guineas please
And keep ‘em coming til these hags are stunning
Rolling L’s in the bathroom, manager came in swinging
A broom, grab the phone 9-1-1 I assume
Here come the goons
Not ideal, Hanna-Barbera bodega pill
Friday night how you feel? Saturday morning to be real
Sex for money what’s the deal, fuck tomorrow
We bone, pint glasses are shown
Get smacked flying ill, find cigarettes stale
Whale females got Ahab doing rails, pacing chewing his nails
Always dreamt I could fail, finally made it, denied bail
Black face I rap in tales, it’s that real, camouflage tuxedo
Head from Puerto Rico like take two kilos to Toledo
In a ’74 Beetle, I’d rather buy for crack and buckets
Of dirty needles, whatever more tequila, titans covered stealers
Less money, more problems, more realer, life of a drug dealer
So by proceed stealing nights of our death, who shot Billy
I forget, amnesia, liquor on the breath, carcinogens in my chest
It’s all fun and games til you under arrest
With buffalo wings puked all on your vest
Funky sapien piss on your steps, shamed face not so little rascala with weed laced, paranoid like yeah had a funny taste
Now I can’t feel my fucking face
[Verse 2:]
Bloodshot Popeye I need more spinach
Mangling the queen’s English like Don King is my linguist
Jesse Jackson applaud when I’m finished
Wall Street rap, we ‘bout business
Writers here come the fucking dentist
Pulling cavities, my bong make you defy gravity
With rhymes more intricate than twelfth century tapestry
Only way out is the Tappan Zee you ain’t no emcee
Bloody diamonds still shining
All that glitters and gleams post on
Jewel encrusted boulevard snatching brass rings
And wayward teens hatching Ponzi schemes
Simple Simon shining under clouds with platinum lining
In this world of finder’s keepers, loser’s weepers
Hide and seek with the reaper
Dollar signs jumping out my beeper
Let the world teach you
Life is cheaper than the right sneakers
Watch for the magpie that move with green eyes
Pecking a chimp for a hypnotized mind
Like Memphis call me triple-six
Foul words brought feds now you choking like the Nick’s
Undercover bricks and dicks got the game fixed
Dapped and be flat on big cat
God gave me the world like hold that
Firing squad lyrics spit on the lip of open grave
Live from Tora Bora caves, spelunk and spit a phrase
On Al Jazeera, pull out on Caesar, death to the unbeliever
Willies and Wallies grinning just leave it to Beaver
With stories short like John Cheever, noided out
Dismantled the phone, check the receiver
Bullshit testimony, I ain’t co-ceiver
On the block Ebenezer sweat lodge visions
Fib and mic fever, a death spot’s best friend
Morovia to Tel Aviv, forty-seven got the gems