Shyheim

Shyheim - Re-Up lyrics

(feat. Two On Da Road (12 O'Clock, Prodical))

[Intro: Prodical]

Yo son I know what time it is

Yo tell em, 12, huh? (Yo hold the fuck up)

Yo Shyheim

Yo tell me it's on (I'ma punch niggas in the face)

Hold that, hold that down son (I got this, I got this)

Word up, we got this (Fuck that nigga, man)

+Shit Iz Real+, all you rats on both coasts

Brooklyn, Shaolin

The block is hot, straight up (Pussy nigga!)

(Read the rims)

[Prodical]

'87, drug, never change their game

We regin terror, projects slang to ring up in the Beakle's leather

Plaque for the cheddar, shots out the face of the Beretta

Through the corner store that lady and kid, they caught it raw

Smokin' leaf poor, make me wanna crack that nigga's jaw

Eatin' with the poor, tryin' to live life for what it's for

Twelve years later, caught me on tour Two on Da Road

Two on the track, two with the plaques, two with the gats

Iced out cats, better think twice before you rap

Up in your bitch back, only a snitch get that

Fuck the chit-chat, click-click-clack, through your Adam's app'

Brook-nam grace and charm, remain calm

In these big streets we struggle just to make ends meet

Pigs with heat, livin' out the Devil's deceit

See I'm a rebel plus my level's complete

Bitches say I'm sort of unique

You can catch me as a Playboy sheets

Solid steel meet, I keep it real with the 'nique

[Shyheim]

Fuck a fair fight, come out my corner with a knife

Y'all big elephant niggas beware of us little mice

You know that we like that cheddar, to make our life better

Every colour, low sweater, drop-top Benz

with the AMG letters, floatin' like feathers

Does it get any better? (Uh-uh, uh-uh) Never, no

Cuz I write the rhymes, the rhymes I write be bumpin'

Rhyme architects that be brutal on production

My brick house, you can't blow me down

My thug drug music, smoked out ya town

Radio Shyheim, you can't choke me out

Cuz where the fuck I'm from, we moke popo out

[Chorus: 12 O'Clock]

Shit is crazy real in the field

Watch nigga blood get spilled over $5 bills, nigga

And major drug deals on the real

Watch a nigga get mils, and his bitch get him killed

[12 O'Clock]

Yo, P let's get this dough quick, shit on the wrist

Platinum bracelets, see his Range's the whip

Summer time, comin' quick you got eighty-five percent

Nigga talk that slick and get his brain blown to bits

Throw you in pits and nigga lock like pits

Got my whole fuckin click, nigga, handlin' fifths

They blastin' and shit, I'm after that kid

Who rock that glass Benz, nigga throw it in his wig

Kidnap his kid, throw his brain in the fridge

Slappy and pig, nigga, place where I live

A nigga lookin' jig and I run up in ya crib

Who the fuck murdered BIG? whoever did, do a bid

And let his daughter drop a fridge on his

Move like the wind to Brooklyn Bridge, straight to my crib

[Chorus x3]

[Outro: 12 O'Clock]

Close the mothafuckin' door, what?

Got my nigga R'son on this track

12 O'Clock on this track

Prodigal Sunn on this track

Got my nigga Shyheim the ManChild

Definitely Brooklyn Zu

Rewind that shit, nigga

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