Two Words

We in the streets, playa, get ya mail

It's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail

Still nowhere to go

Still nowhere to go

Now throw ya hands up, hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes

Everybody, fuck that

Still nowhere to go

Still nowhere to go

Two words, United States, no love, no breaks

Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, black folks

Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules

Presidential scandals, everybody move

Two words, Mos Def, K. West, hot shit

Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this

Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit

We won't stop shit, everybody move

Two words, BK, NY, Bed Stuy

Too hard, too hungry, too many, that's why

These streets know game, can't ball, don't play

Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move

Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit

Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this

Game 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock

We won't stop, everybody move

Now throw ya hands up, hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes (throw your hands up high)

Everybody, fuck that

Still nowhere to go

Still nowhere to go

And keep ya hands up, hustlers ('til they reach the sky)

Busters, boosters, hoes

Everybody, fuck that

Still nowhere to go

Still nowhere to go

Two words, Chi-town, South Side, worldwide

'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die

One neck, two chains, one waist, two gats

One wall, 20 plaques, dues paid, gimme that

I am limelight, Blueprint five mics

Go Getters rhyme like, should've been signed twice

Most imitated, Grammy nominated

Hotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated

Barbershop playa-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it

Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in

Two words, Chi-town raised me crazy

So I live by two words, "Fuck you, pay me"

Screaming, "Jesus, save me"

You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me

'Cause on judgment day, you gon' blame me

Look, God, it's the same me

And I basically know now, we get racially profiled

Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down

Plus I got a whole city to hold down

From the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now

Now throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('til they reach the sky)

Oh, everybody, fuck that

Still nowhere to go

Still nowhere to go

Two words, free way, two letters, AR

Turn y'all rap niggas to two words, fast runners

Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner

The heat skeet, blow a reef through ya car, my God

Two words, no guns, break arms

Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal

Free, young boss, freshman of the Roc

With the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl

Forget ya squad, better fend for yourself

Have you screaming out four words, send for the law, uh

Two words, freeway slightly retarded

Fuck around, throw a clip in ya artist, leave with his broad

Red, white, blue, black (throw your hands up)

Calm down, move back (throw your hands up)

Motherfuckers asking who is that?

You know it's the almighty Black Jack

Mos Def, K. West (throw your hands up)

Ghetto people, get this shit off ya chest (throw your hands up)

North to the south, to the east, to the west

Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest

(High) and show it to 'em like

And show it me here, I-

This is just some two track reference shit

Just to see how it works