Mobb Deep

Mobb Deep - Back At You lyrics

Ashes to ashes dust to dust

stainless steel gats

never rust big till bust you could touch

blessed wit the real side of life

just enough

you couldn't fight me wit your strongest mic

layed down niggas eyes visualize bad reception

maced your interference souped your upperbody section

I travel like a 2 2 bullet

throughout your body repped to the fullest

Queensbridge representin

representin the hollow tip crew

blue slips, seen ships, you talk shit I follow through

once the kite is sent

I might get bent, but still planted

no second thoughts, cuz my conscience is demandin

for the bloodshed(bloodshed) I leave that mug red(mug red)

I'm like cancer cant catch me cuz I done spread(done spread)

gone now dead, enough said from the scene I fled

wit the paranoid thoughts runnin round my head

It's like that war, project niggas strike back it's on

what the fuck you sick I'll be right back

wit the gat and temper end your motherfuckin era

your shortie set you up you betta dead-her

hunger for the cheddar big ends and better

Armeretto sours alcohol consumption

why you runnin we thumpin

do to the fact the infamous is bumpin

ice real son you frontin

Chorus

It's like that war, project niggas strike back it's on

what the fuck you sick, I'll be right back

Prodigy

right back to the fact that

here take that, right back at you

were goin at to

already ran through

wasn't hard to capture, what is it that your goin after

the fourty-fifth will make your clothes damper

put in the hamper

the fabulous Infamous is movin stainless

crime-tainin, to all my niggas hold your bangin

live in action, if you weere dapped then relax then

what the fuck you said? I be right back real maxin

blastin, terrin up your Fila fashion

give him what he askin feelin aint know what happened

back at the cabin, be at the round table plannin

spread team across plannin, expansion

slap a nigga opened handly style something foul

for tryin to slow down, my cash pile a hundred mile

I can recall the days, juvenile crime pays

14 years old, shorty from round way

brick ass cold, still puffin night to day

but why did my life have to be this way

I rock Velour suits, flavors like mixed fruits

my loot give recoup razors in my suit

incase you try to troop me to the island

I known for start whylin

back in New York, my shortie's got the cash pilin

peep this on some knowns and teef shit

so much drama, who the fuck knows who we got beef wit

lift you up off your feet like ski lift

for packin big fifth

niggas who riff but nigga you riff

then Im on the next life gettin bent in the clouds

on my way down souh for international crowds

Chorus

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