Shyne - For The Record Lyrics
Where they at, where they at[repeat 3x][Verse 1]OOh you rhyme witta slug and sum shots in his faceHe rhyme witta slug tryna sound like ma$eListened to his tape, this lil' nigga used to sound like cakeMaybe I'm juss killin, maybe he juss snitchinSee a whole lot different when my sales eclipedWhat I see is straight bug, straight thoroYea he be a killa, you kill wit bugsRather look at the facts not the hypeLike who got shot and who got knifedWho keep gettin struck, but don't neva strikeHope the beef go away but the feds indictI know yo card nigga, it's so clearYou juss wanna sell record you don't want warfareYou don't wanna ride you wanna get rich and hideThese niggaz would've died if they shot me nine timesHeyy it's juss for the bestTake this mob shit serious, please respect it[Hook]And there go the shots stay rippin 'em apartCuz it's a blood comin outta his lungIt's murdah bloody homicide is what they cryWhen they losin' their lifeWhen muh*****az ax me how I sleep at nightPretty cold witta slug might heat me tightPray to god while I'm gone, is what underneath feels likeIt's my work by the surf when they turn off the lights[Verse 2]You ain't kill humma 'cause if you didWhy you ain't get the pen after all of that hitYou know I know, that if you liveThat shit that you spit, somebody got somebodySomebody got jumped, somebody got cutYou boxer nigga, nobody got snuffedNobody got flushed, you screamin what whatOkay okay killa you'sa slutThink about it, enoughs enoughsI'm tryna show 'em whoes whoAnd what is whatI mean how can I respect youWhen them niggaz that left you ain't none of 'em blessed you(not nobody)You know where they are, where they performBust yo gun, stop makin songsPlease no more ghetto quranYou got money now it's time to bombAnd that's juss fo the topTake this mob shit serious please respect itAnd there go the shots stay rippin 'em apart [2x]Cuz it's a blood comin outta his slum[Verse 3]Death of perfection as I move witout motionAin't no nigga in his game doin the shit that I'm quotin'Take a good look 'cause you'll neva a see enought of meMight be sum otha g's tryna trace n color meBut I believe in the ways of oldSlice these niggaz throat tryna tell on poThat shouldn't excist, *****in snitchCut of his dick, put it to his lipsYou really think I was gon' let you slide*****in wit me you must be outcho mindYou really think jail was gon' make thinks rightNigga I will shoot you till you lose yo lifeI was mindin' my own, word got back, niggaz talkin bout poI was like ohh, god must be ready fo this nigga to goI ain't lyin this is the mobYou got yo break come finish yo jobJuss don't get the feds involvedAnd I'mma reunite you wit yo momsR.I.PI guess this ain't juss musicCuz jail only made me much mo' ruthless (nigga)And the ***** nigga knew thisThat's why he tryed to sign me to g-unitTell 'em how you made me offers(I don't want that blood I'mma godfather)Loved on every street cornerHurts yo heart that you don't get that honorThe feds I paid fo that10 years up topI sell 'em much shopBoth of ya was bloodTook the bus wit cuzWant gun fo gunI earned my lugYou, you juss patheticYou neva bg, bespite yo averageTake this mob shit serioue, you gon' respect itTha's juss fo the record[Hook]And there go the shots stay rippin 'em apartCuz it's a blood comin outta his slumIt's murdah bloody homicide is what they cryWhen they losin' their lifeWhen muh*****az ax me how I sleep at nightPretty cold witta slug might heat me tightPray to god while I'm gone, is what underneath feels likeIt's my work by the surf when they turn off the light
