Remedy

(feat. Lounge Lo, Solomon Childs)
[Lounge Lo]
Ay-yo I talk what I talk, who gon shut me up?
Why you think of blowin me up, or blowin the dutch
Keep a double 4 in the clutch
Staten Island, Lounge Lo
Park Hill Projects, and thats whats up!
Keep it commin, spit fire daddy
And yall niggaz is lame, before I go just remember the name
Im in the hood where they shoot guns by the seconds
You in the hood where they shoot guns indirected
L.O.B.B. see TV, call B.I.
Tell him to tell D.I. to come see me
Wit a bag of knuckle-head
And who am I to give a fuck about the next man?
Who care if he fuckin dead
Me, right! Is gon spaz on yall, spaz on yall
Got to get my cash on yall
I got a brick ta work, I said yall cant have none
Yall cant have none, plus I got a chick ta work
My score is nice, dont ask about me twice
Test 3 times, itll cost ya life
Gotta stripper thatll give ya no ice
Nahmean?? And the same bitch will clipper ya pipe
Fuck wit me!
Gotta strong circle thatll hurt you, from little babies grown-ups
Plus them outta town niggaz thatll murk you
[Chorus: Remedy]
Thats whats happenin, you done had it
Everybody hood got people that ratted
Thats whats happenin, yall done had it
Everybody hood got people that ratted
[Solomon Childs]
You cats is pink on the inside, like dispersement forms
We played the cell houses, yall played in dorms
Professional, international poster kid
Big crimes came wit big biz
New Yorks wildest rookie, since Grandmaster Flash
Big boys here now
Slow down you might crash
We rule all cash, and I aint listenin to yall niggaz
Spit these lines for my niggaz
Stick up game ridiculous
I bust a vein in the microphone
Fell in love with the smell of the sweat on the poem
Blood on my blade, shit on my hands from my knife, humble
But cats dont listen, so why warn em?
Music will have you ?mourning extortem?
New Yorks divine leaders
I tell a story for em, perform bops
Bring forth wild brothers together in the forum
Spittin with confidence
I thought Id double up on em, I thought Id double up on em
[Chorus]
[Remedy]
There aint many street kids left
I could say their names in about one breath
I could count your mans on about one hand
Take it from the words of a true mans man
The streets forever talkin, dead men walkin
Window hawkin, yo the fiends come stalkin
Yall cats had it
It was either him, her, or you
Or somebody you knew that done ratted
The Shaolin, everyone knows everything
Its scary, cut they tongue, shits hairy
The so called mans you got, wanna Lancelot you
And got you in a trance that locked you
Government informants, rat fuckin bicthes
Telltale snitches, 6 foot ditches
Wanna talk about with who and where and whatcha do
And if they told on him, then theyll tell on you
[Chorus x2]
[ Thats Whats Happening Lyrics ]