More Or Less - Shyne

Gyeah, It’s like New York’s been soft

Ever since my nigga Shyne been sittin' in prison

Yeah

Shyne

Check it, sick things, sick rings, this shit is sickening

Sick chains sick aim, 5th bang 5th frame

Bail money lawyers actin' funny when I come through

Hit 'em with a bundle on the humble

Couple notes, seen Boy George with a Rolls

Shit, I want one too

What the fuck I’m gon' do

But get it if it’s there to be gotten 'til I’m dried and rotten

And I’m rockin' sideways muthafucka crime pays

I need it, I’ll get it, I got it, I’ll chop it, I’ll double the profit

And bubble the pockets, I’m living to die

Niggas talk fly 'til I walk by and pop somethin'

Muthafuckas forgot somethin', I’m not frontin'

This ain’t rap, music this ain’t that

You fuck around I’ll have you sleepin' where the saints at

Sincerely yours Shyne muthafuckin' Po

Bitch get yo' bags hit the muthafuckin' do'

May the angels walk with me, more or less

Big things, big rims nigga, more or less

Fuckin' big stars in big cars, more or less

I can say I seen it all and done it all, more or less

A G is a G, a ki is a ki, a snitch is a fish (as in kilo)

With no fins that can’t swim when I dump him in the river

Charcoal gray R, 12 cylinders bulletproof sentences

Trial day tentative

I sound like who?

ya’ll sound like trash

Get off my dick and pass my cash

They don’t do it cause I rap about it

I rap about it cause they do it

My music’s the conduit to a ticket, I live it

Bitch nigga, I cook it and pitch it

Wipe the prints up off the shit and ditch it, uh

Hip-Hop ain’t responsible for violence in America

America’s responsible for violence America

Back to the flow nose full of blow

Rolls 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 and bring it back

Get 4 times what you paid, divide the labor costs

And still come away with enough to play

And I see the same shit in niggas younger than me

Runnin' the streets lookin for somethin' to eat

Ole boy betta get down better run for cover

When I spit rounds ah you in some shit now

Get found slit down to the white meat

I’m from Brooklyn, Vietnam nigga, I like beef

But being a bird in the street, double plight

Livin' a troubled life, father was a jerk

Moms had to work, papi had the works

So I did what any real nigga would do

Got in front the stove, now I got this shit sold

Fuck you punk niggas wit' yo' punk cash

Let the pump blast, put yo punk ass in the trunk fast

The fuck y’all thought

I bury niggas in walls, I’mma trill muthafucka after all

Point blank shootin niggas point blank all the way to the bank

Rip yo face off then I take off

The difference between me and them, you won’t be seein' them

No more, nigga, secrets of war