Legal Drug Money - Lost Boyz

Here comes the real rough rap

Shit is getting ill, cuz we the microphone wrath

(Freaky Tah)

Now for years, I’ve been trying to show the skills (show ya skills, nigga!)

So I can do my thing with wifey and start knocking on some bills and then

My peoples in the headlight yo (blaow!) so innocent

Mr. Cheeks, yeah (a real nigga reprsenting now)

I lived out in Queens, man, for years (hah!)

I’m seeing ya brothers killing brothers, man, that means (more tears)

Every day I’m trying and I’m seeing my niggas dying

And I’m asking mom dukes (why you crying)

I got a little man, my little man is getting older

I wipe my wifeys eyes, every time she cries, as I hold her

It’s tough coming up as a young black man

Understand, see the world is ran by the Klan

Just like Tom and Jerry with cheese

And they seem to lock us down when they bring in the keys

Well I guess that’s the way that is (what?)

It’s time for Mr. Cheeks and Lost Boyz to get biz

And get this Legal Drug Money

I seen this nigga went crazy on the train

At first I thought he was nuts but at the same time I feel the pain

Cuz another niggas dead on the street over dope shit

Like nigga where you run shit?

It bothers me on the norm, I stand tall

With my back against the wall, and my hand on my four-four

(Mr. Cheeks: Aiyo, what about the world, Tah?)

The world seems to bug me

Don’t know who wants to kill me

Don’t know who wants to love me

Man, listen, I be keeping peace in my heart

But if shit hit the fan, I rip shit apart

I’m not with the beef and emotion, I’d rather smoke chom

And dump a fat bong around the ocean

I maintain keep my self up to par

Got no appetite for it, cuz every critic like a falling star

And on the real, kid, it ain’t nothing funny

Freaky Tah, LB Fam, '94, Legal Drug Money

You say it’s 94, I warm it up and give it to ya raw

You say you wanna battle well prepare for the war

I shuffle up and break them down cuz we catch 'em with the quickness

My name is Mr. Cheeks and Mr Cheeks is next to sickness

In the dictionary, I will bury any MC

With violence, my crew or even try to go against me

For real, I’d rather push an Ac' with some rims

And bounce around Queens with some baggy jeans and Timbs

And chill, puff on a Phil' at will

I got a baby boy to skill, it’s so much to keep it real

Relax, I got a style smoother than a Saxon

I looked into the mirror, say it clear than the Jackson

Guy did, who shot the sheriff?

Nigga, I did

Where you from, Mr. Cheeks?

Southside, kid

Yo, on the real, man, it ain’t nothing funny

'94, '95, '96, Legal Drug Money, chill

Give it up, come out ya fucking pockets

Put ya face to the ground, how do that sound?

Go pound for pound, letting off a shot

I’m walking down the block, then I say

Yo, stop, then turn back to the Buddha spot

You, know, how I flow

Freaky Tah got the pizzy ass ho.