Boondock Saints - Little Brother

Uh, Embassy

Uh, uh, Phonte

We shall prevail

Came from a bush baby on a quest to run things

Been in pursuit baby since Master P and that «Uhh» thing

Remember that shit?

War with December, that’s it

Coldest nigga walkin', know these niggas talkin'

Out the side of they face, I’m here for a reason

I will die for my space, who’s still gotta get it?

Who’s still pure?

Us, and I ain’t having shit

Like a tour bus, receive if you want hell

And Keisha Shantell tried to talk some sense in him

Same day realised there’s no convincing him

Nigga With Attitude like Ren and 'nem

Got a click of piranhas, I will swim for them

I will tread water until the end for them

You don’t get it though, we are who y’all ain’t

Gets vicious though, it’s like we true, y’all ain’t

L.E.G., Dunny, Tigallo, Boondock Saints

Right tack to business off a six-week tour

And I ain’t never seen drama like this before

Got a lot of shit to get off my chest

Some wild shit to address, so I told Khrysis press record

I’mma put it on wax and give you the raw facts

And truth about life and the things I’m dealing with

Black folks saying that I’m too intelligent

And white folks saying I’m a little too niggerish

It got me in a strange predicament

I wish black embarrassment TV was judged more wisely

But I don’t know what’s worse

The fact that they ain’t playing our shit, or that it don’t even surprise me

Because I shucking and cause I ain’t jiving

Some of these crackers won’t stand beside me

And cause I ain’t killing and don’t support pimping

Some of these niggas wanna call me a Cosby

Well, I’ll be that dude, I’ll scratch that itch

I’ll play that role, call me Heathcliff bitch

If this ain’t what you want then fine

But somehow, someway we got to draw that line

And it goes without mentioning, I thought about censoring

This verse so my label and manager stay cool

But as of this recording we ain’t even outsold The Listening

So really what the fuck I got to lose?

Bitch it’s Phontigga, lo the show ripper

Ho cause my hoes would change week to week

But now my flows be changing from beat to beat

Tell my nigga Jim Bowes he gotta beat the streets

Cause I know that they need us — there’s got to be more to this generation

Than dranking and smoking all they weed up

This is my confession with the Embassy

You fuckin imbeciles can put your Rosary Beads up, now

See, Tyson told me hit 'em with the flames first

Challenge the world, bet I drop more names than a Game verse

These rap niggas is plastic

I’m terrorizing cyphers, they can’t blame Osama for that shit

Left the seven-one-eight for the nine-nineteen

I’m still home, slid the Y between the N and the C

Hunts Point I did it y’all, look at me shining

Came a long way rhyming, part time and nine-to-fivin'

The game is full of pussies, I can hear it in they rhymes

Got balls for saying that, who dick is bigger than mine?

Pause, walking tall, biggest nigga on campus

Putting shame to all 'em so-called niggas who ran this

I’ve been nice since the early eighties

When I strike it rich your lady will swallow my million dollar babies

You don’t wanna battle me right?

I guarantee you’ll see more L’s than Puerto Ricans on the lower eastside

Hunts Point, I did it again

I’ve been broke so long the rich will now feel the wrath of my pen

You can tell I got now by the words on this page

I got too big for the corner so I brought it to the stage