Mc Lyte

Got a new gig, here you come again kid
fresh out the dog, done did your bid
but you can't stay here no more
Not in this crib
Not with the foul way that you used to live
I remember you would take long trips on the first of the month
not giving a fuck about what I want
Break -- uhh! Breathe lyte! Breathe!
The day that you left I spent mad dough trying to get shit fixed
cause of your fucking death wish
Broken glass everywhere, cause a motherfucka like you just didn't care
Got my shit shot up, had to buy a new body for my Benz, cause of your wild ass friends
Years ago when you started on the scene, back and forth smuggling shit from Caribbean
It was you and your boy Dunn, making them suicide runs
But it was all in fun till Dunn tried to run with half of your cut
Now your boss is looking at you saying What the fuck is up?
What's up? But you say, Fuck him you could start your own ring and things
Besides you get a lot of peeps to swing
Now you got eight men working 7 days a week
2 be the runners, 5 on the street
1 be the side kick,, the right hand, you know the one that ride shotgun thinking he the man
They'd kill to be where you are, oh yeah! The druglord superstar
You got a new crib, new truck, new car
trying to fit in, throwing parties for them big type rap stars
But on the other side of town, shit is getting hot, your man got shot
and they blew up your tree spot, on 125th and St. Nick, shit is getting thick
Your boy got caught in St. Martin with a brick, now he's exile