Two Words (feat. Mos Def, Freeway & The Boys Choir of Harlem)

We in the streets, player, get ya mail It's only two places you end up: either dead or in jail Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go) Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go) Now throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes Everybody, fuck that Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go) Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go) Listen, two words: United States, no love, no breaks Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, Black folks Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules Presidential scandals, everybody move! Two words: Mos Def, K. West, hot shit Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit We won't stop shit, everybody move! Two words: BK, NY, Bed Stuy Too harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why These streets know game, can't ball, don't play Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move! Two words: Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this Game 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock We won't stop, everybody move! Now throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes (Throw your hands up high) Everybody, fuck that Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go) Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go) And keep ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('Til they reach the sky) Everybody, fuck that Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go) Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go) Ayo, two words: Chi-town, South Side, worldwide 'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die One neck two chains, one waist two gats One wall twenty plaques, dues paid, gimme that I am limelight, Blueprint, five mics Go Getters rhyme like should've been signed twice Most imitated, Grammy nominated Hotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated Barbershop playa-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in Two words: Chi-town raised me, crazy So I live by two words: "Fuck you, pay me" Screamin', "Jesus, save me" You know how the game be I can't let 'em change me 'Cause on judgment day, you gon' blame me Look, God, it's the same me And I basically know now we get racially profiled 'Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down Plus, I got a whole city to hold down From the bottom so the top's the only place to go now Throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('Til they reach the sky) Everybody, fuck that Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go) Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go) Two words: Freeway; two letters: AR Turn y'all rap niggas to two words: fast runners Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner The heat skeet, blow a reef through ya car, my God Two words: no guns, break arms Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal, free Young boss, freshman of the Roc With the beef in the pot Jay sent for his dogs, to brawl Forget ya squad, better fend for yourself Have you screamin' out four words: "Send for the law"? Ugh Two words: Freeway, slightly retarded Fuck around, throw a clip in ya artist, leave with his broad Red, white, blue, black (Throw your hands up) Calm down, move back (Throw your hands up) Motherfuckers askin', "Who is that?" (Throw your hands up) You know it's the almighty Black Jack (Throw your hands up) Mos Def, K. West (Throw your hands up) Ghetto people get this shit off ya chest (Throw your hands up) North to the south to the east to the west (Throw your hands up) Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest (Throw your hands up) (High) and show it to 'em like Show it me here, I- Just some two track reference shit Just to see how it works