featuring Busta Rhymes, Iman T.H.U.G.



(Killer B, yeah, rest in peace, I'm sayin son

Ain't no room in this game for everybody, you know?

But uh, we gon' do our thing baby, we gon' do our thing)



[Iman T.H.U.G.]

Yo, Iman T.H.U.G. something stunnin, rappers get done in

I migrate, Queens Jamaica, Brooklyn gets sunning

All feelings though, we all grow wit this ?buckle?

I recognized life is a deal, cards and a shuffle

Everything revolves around me, I couldn't see that

25 to Life and hip-hop, you got the feedback

Who need that, hundred gram stashed up in the cheese stack

We fo' black, want more trip, we get that old back

And keep this world high, yearly raw supply

These fuckin tracks have a nigga feelin wide inside

Any bottle-tip high smokin lah in the rye

It's on you, if you wanna take heed the hidden treasure

Recognize it's Iman T.H.U.G. wit Noreaga

Recognize that 2-5 shine'll last forever

Embedded in your mind like the seams in butter leathers

Butter leathers, check it yo yo yo



Chorus 2x

I keep it real wit a nigga keep it real wit me

I cut the hand off a nigga tryin steal from me

2-5 be that bomb-diggy bomb you see

Black juice in the Yukon driver's seat



[Noreaga]

I keep it real wit a bitch that keep it real wit me

Cut the hand off a chicken tryin steal from me

CNN be that bomb-diggy bomb you see

Now it's Nore now in the fuckin driver's seat

Yo I shot rapid, burn weed inside a back quick

Iraq embassy need a straitjacket

Yo let's rachateer this, while most niggas'll fear this

Turn my shit down everytime they hear it

P-H-D me, rapidly right in back of me

Tackle me, them niggas make loot but only half of me

My faculty, blow holes in your Moschinos and tuxedos

While all y'all niggas free-load, reload

Explode on, roll on, fold on, Ghengis Khan

Dusk till dawn Art of War

Still time to score, yo we kid we poly for

Yo Victoria's Secret bitches that suck dick raw

The freak, Rick James type, I got the long pipe

Kick doors in, snake four-fours in

Yo escape the Nor-van, swervin, TV's inside Suburban

Iraq dishieke, diamond cut pinky

Listen to Trag shit wit Noyd and Chinky

Network like the internet, wit Henny wet

Nine-oh be my set, so whatever be next

Nashiem, he laced this beat on some east coast shit



I keep it real wit a bitch that keep it real wit me

Cut the hand off a chicken tryin steal from me

CNN be that bomb-diggy bomb you see

Now it's Nore now in the fuckin driver's seat



We overdose this, high class wit one E-Class

Shorty came through, she iced out and dressed in blue

Said she move from Brooklyn, reside in secion two

Know how we do out here hoe, a two for square

Get high, and disappear play the projects on super-low

Plus she feelin my style, Too Hot like Coolio

Plus her cooty though, bangin just like the studio

From Iraq to Inglewood, it all good

From hood to hood, regulate like a thug should

Yo we in too deep, losin sleep and can't call it

The game is still fresh until the jake try to spoil it

Even people I was loyal wit, give my life to

Be the first who turn around and try to spike

Now they don't like you, sendin ten dogs to bite you



[Iman T.H.U.G.] (Busta Rhymes)

I keep it real wit a nigga (yo yo) keep it real wit me

(We keep it real nigga) I cut the hand off a nigga tryin steal from me

(CUT YA HAND OFF!! Fuck) 2-5 be that bomb-diggy bomb you see

(WHAT!) Black juice in the Yukon driver's seat (WHAT)

(We keeps it real wit niggas who keep it real wit us)

I keep it real wit a nigga keep it real wit me

(Fuck, CUT YA HAND OFF) I cut the hand off a nigga tryin steal from me

2-5 be that bomb-diggy bomb you see (WHAT!)

Black juice in the Yukon driver's seat (WHAT