We Gonna Ill

"You know we gonna ill" --]scratched
What...set it off what
My n*gga Prim
Black Poet

[Verse 1]
f*ck the dumb sh*t, n*ggas want drama
You know who to come kid, the cappital P the o-et
Smash motherf*ckers up, crush motherf*ckers up
Leave your body in the closet for a motherf*cking month
n*ggas know my flow's relentless I said it I ment this
n*ggas get high, b*tches get bent
Everybody knows Poet's on some hood sh*t
I wake every thug around the world tryin' to get rich
If you're doing your thing then slinging your thing
You know and I know n*gga better bang
Watch them hoes, watch them snakes
Real n*ggas in the game, f*ckin' with cakes
Real n*ggas in the game knows what it takes
And real n*ggas let you know what's real and fake
Like my n*gga Primo, he reached out to me yo
Whereever he goes, I go, se, he me amigo
And we gonna ill

[Hook: scratching by DJ Premier]

"You know we gonna ill" 2X
"With love to thugs that died in the field
So many names we don't got room to spit them"
"This ain't a game n*gga"
"You know we gonna ill" 3X

[Verse 2]
What, what, aha, yeah, yeah

I sat back I watch ya n*ggas and clacked ya n*ggas
Played you on my box since I put rocks and figures
Got it through this life, drugs chop my sh*t, n*gga
Lyrics gotta throw blood kill ya weak n*ggas
Represent, all thugs and all money getters
I live some green and blings and sh*t that glitters
And plus, the word on the street is
I hotter then 2 blaze of 9 millimetres
You can't belive this
A&R's, they pullin out their heads
They get fierd cause they havd a n*gga right there
CEO's screaming "why the f*ck yu didn't sign 'em?"
"He brought in a mansion and a hot boy diamands"
Should have gave me the world, stupid f*ck
Look how I'm rhymin', wildin', calmin', poundin', grindin'
I ain't lyin'
Mad n*ggas try with me, die with me
Belive it n*gga, you don't wanna have to colide with me
We gonna ill

[Hook]

[Verse 3]
Yo, got it together now, Mo' to them now
Rest in peace pops, and my moms, I can't let it down
Queensbridge representative, style's unlimeted
Hot shots, hot rocks, I'm sendin' it
Who else you know get flow like Po'
For the love of this sh*t, and not the dough
I write my own rhymes cause I like this sh*t to death
n*ggas don't got respect, they just writin' the ceques
I might sell 10 mill if I learned some stacks
And bleach my skin and front like I'm from the projects
But all I can be is me, and catch wreck
As far as the eye can see, my whole set
Screwball gang-stars, comin' in planes and cars
Moet bottles with your brains on the ??? at the bar
From now on, sh*t is gettin more real
My n*ggas in QB, I'm leaving you to heal
Cause I'm off the wall and I'm Illmaticly ill

[Hook]

Female singer:(X2)

You know and I know, sh*t is real
Poet and Primo, them n*ggas gon' ill
The whole industry's about, blacks and feal
Poet and Primo, them n*ggas gon' ill

You know, I know, we gonna ill (X2)
We're gonna ill...