The Return Lyrics

Grand Puba, Lord Jamar, Sadat X, Alamo Raised in the ghetto singin' songs called survival I'm only bringin' you the real Grand Puba, Lord Jamar, Sadat X, Alamo Raised in the ghetto singin' songs called 'Survival' Have a stout if you know what I'm talkin' about
Three sixty degrees I stand in the square, right over left Preparin' to fight to the death, you could never stifle this Not even the triflest, nigga on Earth, could ever fuck With what I spit in a verse, we always hit where it hurts
Underground so we dig in the dirt Always gotta put a nigga to work, is how it seems It's kinda hard to hear the silent screams Through the violent things, turn a deaf ear
Your body might get left there, you better step to the rear We put it down with Premier, rock mad army gear You ain't heard us all together in several years It's like a federal crime, you had to settle for rhymes
That lacked substance, we got that in abundance Pro-black and you know that We stay Fat like Joe Crack, Lord Jamar Come too far, to ever try and go back
Grand Puba, Lord Jamar, Sadat X, Alamo Raised in the ghetto singin songs called survival I'm only bringin' you the real Grand Puba, Lord Jamar, Sadat X, Alamo Raised in the ghetto singin' songs called 'Survival' Have a stout if you know what I'm talkin' about
I'm on 110 and Lennox with these Africans overseein' Our physical being and how we doin' it It only take one bad nigga to ruin' it, pursuin' it And actin' like it can't happen put you in the chair
To the bookings we go on the twenty-four hour flow I run through obstacles, take off my shackles Proper backing with the bangers and the rhyme singers I run with dem and others rock NY in colors
With the straight brim and the chick who work in the gym The great Datty in the C-Town Express Whoever step to this is gonna have to face stress Whoever step to this better be at they best
Look at me close, I'm the perfect host you standin' too close So back up, you should never try to act up The Wild Cowboy still got the style boy One of a kind I throw a helluva line
Grand Puba, Lord Jamar, Sadat X, Alamo Raised in the ghetto singin songs called survival I'm only bringin' you the real Grand Puba, Lord Jamar, Sadat X, Alamo Raised in the ghetto singin' songs called 'Survival' Have a stout if you know what I'm talkin' about
Yeah, yeah yeah, yeah, my man Primo hit me off with the plural Zig Zag Zig like Zorro now we makin' more bread than Stella Doro Unsung hero bring more heat than DeNiro Never known for spittin' trash shit on the mic, that shit's a zero
Rhyme flow stay off the meter, tight like two-seaters Make y'all get nuts like a cell block filled with dick beaters Make my approach then shorty's bagged like coach Cut on the lights if she ain't a dime then watch me run like a roach
Y'all know my shit be hot they call me Dr. Doo-a-lot Now I got seeds so I'm stingy I keep strings on my Benji's So tree up, nigga we up, about to re-up Y'all know the deal, grab this paper, disappear like Copperfield
I need a meal, time to eats with a flow Drop the beat, press it up, and hit the street, dinner time's complete My Nubian ways'll get ass that open for days Make more chips than Frito Lays when I spit the phrase that pays
Grand Puba, Lord Jamar, Sadat X, Alamo Raised in the ghetto singin songs called survival I'm only bringin' you the real Grand Puba, Lord Jamar, Sadat X, Alamo Raised in the ghetto singin' songs called 'Survival' Have a stout if you know what I'm talkin' about