It's Mine Lyrics - Murda Muzik - Mobb Deep

Yeah. yeah. (hahahaha) uh-huh, yeah yeah 

(HAH hahahaha) Huh yo, you know it 

Infamous ninety-nine (infamous ninety-nine) 

(hahahaha) Infamous two thousand 

(Ain't nuttin but thugs over here baby) 

(AHHH hahahaha). (hahaha). (HAH haha) 

(Havoc) 

Yo... straight thugs on this side - it's do or die to the death 

Like the terminal ill takin they last breath 

Read your last rites - God, forgive me 

for the sin I'm about to commit - takin a life 

Kill or be killed, rather that than somebody else 

readin my will - you feel what I feel, you know the deal 

Keep the infrared next to my bed, one in the head 

Hearin noises, dead tired, eyes bloodshot red 

Sleep with half closed eyelids 

Some say it's strange, sometimes that's how strange life get 

Go easy on the bottle, niggaz love to see when 

niggaz slippin off point, on the strength they bet 

Scopin your ice, appraisin it like the Diamond District Jeweler 

with they hand on the biscuit 

Do ya, wanna get caught lifted; or sober, so you can react quick? 

Blow you off the atlas as if I caught you fuckin my wife 

on my thousand dollar mattress 

It's the world that I live in, Q.B. made me 

A moms that loved me and a pops that raised me 

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Chorus: Nas {singing to the chorus of Brandy's "The Boy is Mine"} 

Y'all need to give it up. we don't give a fuck. 

what y'all niggaz want. thug, life, is, mine 

Y'all need to give it up. cause we don't give a fuck. 

what y'all niggaz want. thug, life, is, mine 

(Prodigy) 

I got the style of a still-born child, I'm ill 

If it's beef, poke him with the fork, make sure he's done well 

(Very very) The sreets raised me crazy, now I'm immune to it 

So when they start shootin, we'll stop the music 

Keep it moving that's how we do it (c'mon, c'mon Dunn) 

Been through more drama than the Baldwins, you still crawlin 

(Still crawlin) Apply street rules to the office, high performance 

Rap author, made millions off of - melodic, hypnotic productions 

That'll fuck with your conscience and touch your emotions 

(You feel me? You feel me?) 

You feel me? I'll write a graphic page 

Escort niggaz to they grave, relate to the projects 

We the black Mobb, it gets deeper than rap music 

(Don't get no realer than this!) 

It's more real than any words I can muster 

Pull the black Cadillac trucks up (What?) 

Hop out them shits like what? Y'all niggaz can't touch us 

Photos 

Chorus 

(Nas Escobar) 

Silk shirts on my chest show what a flirt 

Halle Berry blew a kiss at the Barbara Streisand concert 

Silk pants colored pink, gators match gangster musical thing 

And I'll front like my doo doo don't stink 

Instinct like Cuba Gooding steppin out the latest toy 

Hazard lights blinkin, gators hit the floor 

Everybody watch the red carpet entrance, cameras flashin 

Just to think, that was yesterday's action 

Cause today goes either way - we came a long way 

from hallway steps and hand-me-down shit 

Fuck my foes, I seen the other side, NexTel cell roam 

Call the chopper phone, heliport in my home 

Quincy Jones posters 

Wake up, guns under my pillow, I can't talk around chauffeurs 

Shit is better than a novel, autobiographic 

Spit it on tracks, it becomes classic 

Start some, make my heart pump, spark one, I'm God son 

NAStradamus, last one to blast one when the NARC's come 

Know how to leave anything in thirty seconds 

When you feel the heat, comin and flee with the murder weapon 

I'll release one, shot you deceased, learn your lesson 

Your flesh turn to maggots, bastards, you past it 

Cremate your flesh to ashes 

You don't need a suit, no wake, no funeral, and no casket 

Chorus 

(Nas) 

The, life, is, mine (repeat 3X) 

Ill Will. 

You need to give it up. we don't give a fuck 

what y'all niggaz want. we don't give a fuck 

Thug, life, is, mine 

Y'all need to give it up. we don't give a fuck. 

what y'all niggaz want. thug, life, is, mine