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Kool G Rap - Where You At? Lyrics

from Free Agents: The Murda Mixtape

"Kool G Rap - Where You At?" is track #5 on the album Free Agents: The Murda Mixtape.
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"Kool G Rap - Where You At?" is track #5 on the album Free Agents: The Murda Mixtape.
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[ CHORUS ]
[ Kool G Rap ]
Yo, if you make a lotta cream and don't share them stacks
[ Prodigy ]
Yeah, it ain't where you from, it's where you at
I know a lotta niggas that'll tear your back
[ Kool G Rap ]
It ain't where you from, kid, it's where you at
[ Prodigy ]
Listen, if you goin out of town and don't bear them gats
[ Kool G Rap ]
It ain't where you from, kid, it's where you at
If you caught up in a beef and you scared to clap
[ Prodigy ]
Dogs, it ain't where you from, it's where you at

[ VERSE 1: Kool G Rap ]
Shit, thug listen (What up baby?)
Ain't nothin 'round here but drug addiction
Niggas is anti-love-livin
The slug-givin little shortie on the snub itchin
For beef, he might get left in the street with his blood drippin
The poor niggas sling crack, real raw niggas that bang gats
Crazy lady jumped on the train tracks
Know if you owe somebody dough you better bring that
Them kids is live, put five where your brain at
You walk the streets of the slums
Know to spot beef when it come
Reach for the guns or feel the heat from the ones
Never know who your killer be (Yeah, speak to no one)
Just put a Desert Eagle beak in his lung
Leak em and run, some guys light the blunts up
(And then what?) And then go ride with the pumps up
Chopped up bitch inside of a dumpster
Paramedics tryin to speed a nigga pulse up
(Yo, he's a cold blue) victim of the vultures
Block sizzlin hot, flooded in the middle with cops
Innocent nigga topped, riddled with shots
Kids up in rock spots clock knots, fiddle with glocks
Ready to die for what little they got
Tricks, hoes and thugs (That's right)
The ones that put holes in mugs
Waitin outside for them ones that pose in clubs
To that strange nigga knockin on your do' with gloves
Let the .44 blow for grub, it's no love

[ CHORUS ]

[ VERSE 2: Prodigy ]
You got uniformed cops, the D's when it's hot
TNT knockin down the door of your spot
The feds come get you once you think you on top
They just been buildin they case, they got you on tape
The CIA clip you if the shit is that deep
Your money's that long, you ain't that strong
Informants'll bury you under the jail
They got wires and statements for juries to hear
Then they got rivals that got it clickin just like you
That's your competition, them niggas tryin to eat too
They'll set you up for dead if you don't show strength
Extort all your workers cause you ain't built for this
Plus stick-up kids and jealous-ass niggas
You gotta watch your front, sides and your back (Damn)
You gotta keep your eyes on your bitch and your mens
You gotta keep your mind sharp livin so fed

[ CHORUS (2X) ]

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