Shyne - More Or Less

Yeah... (walk with me) (come on) [INTRO - FOXY] Yeah, It's like new york's been soft Ever since my nigga shyne's been sittin in prison, yeah [VERSE 1 - SHYNE] (check it, uh) Sick things, Sick rings, *THIS SHIT IS SICKENING Sick chain, sick aim, 5th Bang, 5th frame, bail money Lawyers acting funny, when I come through, hit em with the bundle on the humble Couple notes seen warlords with the rolls Shit i want one too. what the fuck Im gon do Forget it If its dated we gotten till im dried and rotten Im rocking sideways, motherfucking crime pays I need it, I get it, I got it, I chop it, I double the profit And bubble the pockets. I'm livin to die. Niggas talk fly till I walk by And POP something. you motherfuckers FORGOT something I am not FRONTIN This aint rap, music. This aint that. You fuck around and have you sleepin **WHERE THE SAFE'S AT Sincierly yours, SHYNE motherfucking PO Bitch get your bags, Hit the motherfucking DOOR. [CHORUS - X2] May the angels walk with me (more or less) Big things big rims nigga (more or less) Fucking big stars and big cars (more or less) I can say I've seen it all and done it all (more or less) [VERSE 2 - SHYNE] G is a g A key is a key A snitch is a fish with no ***FINS that can't swim when I dump him in the river Char-coal gray R. 12 cylinders bulletproof sentances. trial day tentatives, I sound like who? Yall sound like trash Get off my DICK and Pass my cash. They ****DONT do it cause I rap about it, I rap about it cause they do it My musics, they con do it you will take it I live it .. bitch nigga I click it then pitch it Wipe the prints off of this shit, and ditch it (uh) Hip hop aint responsible for violence in America. America is responsible for violence in America Back to the flow Nose full of blow Roads full of hoes Leave a nigga clothes full of holes The schools didn't want me. so the drug dealers taught me, simple math, step on it twice then Bring it back The *****FOUR TIMES WHAT YOU pay. Divide the labour costs and still come away with enough to play and I see the same shit, niggaz younger than me, runnin the streets, lookin for somethin to Eat. [CHORUS - X2] May the angels walk with me (more or less) Big things big rims nigga (more or less) Fucking big stars and big cars (more or less) I can say I've seen it all and done it all (more or less) [VERSE 3 - SHYNE] Oh boy you better get down, (Foxy Brown) You better run for cover, when I spit rounds Oh you in some shit now, get found, slit down to the white meat. I'm from brooklyn, Vietnam nigga, I LIKE beef. Livin the murderer streets double pipes. living the trouble life. Father was a jerk, moms had to work, ******PAPI HAD THE WORK, so I did what any real nigga would do, got in front the stove, now i got this shit sold Fuck you PUNK niggas with your PUNK cash with the PUNK blast put your Punk ass in the trunk FAST. What the FUCK yall thought, I bury niggas in walls, Im a *******TRILL motherfucker rapping raw. Point blank, shooting niggas point blank all the way to the bank rip your face off then I take off. The difference between me and them. you won't be SEEING them. no more nigga. secrets of war. [CHORUS (repeat till end)] May the angels walk with me (more or less) Big things, big rims nigga (more or less) Fucking big stars and big cars (more or less) I can see I've seen it all and done it all (more or less)