Die Another Day Lyrics - Singles - Benzino

[Benzino] 

Lord help us, my peoples bein' raped (uh) 

Deliver me from evil and I sell his devils faith 

Lets take a closer look at what's really happenin' 

He wants you to believe that it was all about rappin' 

And all I try to do is open up my niggas eyes 

It wasn't about me and Em, you gotta realise 

It's just a smokescreen, my niggas there's a bigger picture 

I want the streets to pay attention cause I'm ridin' with ya 

This credibility is what we here for 

Then why ain't the hoods sellin' units no more (tell me why) 

Labels actin' like it's good so they say so 

EPMD was always gold with no radio 

Now it's time to turn the prophesy, times up 

Marshall Mathers gotta die, rise up 

No choise, the only way we gonna turn this shit around 

Is put this little bitch in the ground 

And this so cald kings, steady going at eachother 

Do songs with the devil, while they fightin' with there brothers 

Sell a house, fuckin' pitiful, we always just some drama 

Let 'em slide through then they devide, conquer 

And every plantation got a bunch a house niggas 

D12, Shady Records just a bunch of house niggas 

Obie Trice, is for security in your front lobby 

Better call the secret service, if you gonna stop me (blaah) 

Paul Rosenberg, you fat fuckin' pig 

I'm holdin you responsable for what this bitch did (kill ya) 

Cause you call me up, try to cop or plead 

As far as I'm concerned you both gonna bleed (bitch) 

Talkin' bout he wanna fight, please 

Let's set that shit up quick so I can drop him to his knees 

You let a clown clown you, how insane is that 

You let em tonguekiss your wife when you had a gat 

How you gonna have a gun with no bullets 

Oh don't worry cause when I see you I'm gonna pul it (blaah) 

You dyed ya hear blond, I'm a make it red 

How you gonna sell records Marshall when you dead 

Motherfuck make you pay for that bullshit you talkin' 

I'm goin' hard in the streets of New York and 

Just ask Chuck how we ran 'em outta Boston 

He should have been killed left in the coffin 

And you better keep my kids out ya fuckin' mouth 

Before I put a glock in yo' mutherfuckin' mouth 

Tell Haley it ain't safe no more (nah) 

Daddy better watch yo' back at the candystore 

We Fucked up, resort to plan B 

Fuck around she and up like Jon Benet Ramsey (that's right) 

Matter of fact you better check the DNA (what) 

She probably ain't yours, and where's your wife Kim anyway 

She's on her knees somewhere suckin' 50 Cent 

I know you wishin' you were there cause you on his dick 

You dress in drag, you huggin' up on Elton John 

You closet fag, I'm a king you a little punk 

You the rap david doer the rap bibler 

The coacher stealer, niggas ain't with ya 

I'm the rap Hewey, the rap Malcolm, the rap Martin 

Don't worry I'm a finish what we started 

And everybody who wanna scream Pac's name 

You don't make a difference, you in it for the fame 

Cause if Pac was livin', he would shoot this bitch alive 

But I'm a do it for him, if the hood must survive 

You sleep with five O, you walk with the feds 

Better keep the lights on, when they tuck you into bed 

Cause I'm a get yo' silly ass, find out where you lay 

When Debbie set you up you gonna die another day