Let Us Live (feat. Chrisette Michele)

Lord, let us live Yeah, Scott Storch Yo, I'm hopin' out a Phantom with a' iced out medallion Stallions on both arms, rocks on both charms My Dominican chick lookin' like Scarface sister Red and curly and she wake me up early 'Cuz hustlers hit the block when police change shifts New York, California different toilet, same shit In Brooklyn I rock Timberlands, still toast cinnamon Been gangster way before he dropped many men Liquor in my system, voice raspy, who I sound like? Don't ask me that's my nigga we classy Him and Montega Jada, our style superior to haters You can catch me in the latest Marvin Gaters Ralph Lauren suit tape it up fly 'cause I'm papered up Why these niggas keep hatin' on my Phantom I be out in Atlanta and body tappin' I'm probably strapped Toast it up, niggas My hood's on the real dark side of the track No sunny skies, just really black We live real down here, Lord, let us live No playin' around here, Lord, let us live Don't hate my hood, just hate my shine We comin' out, we on our grind We live real down here, Lord, let us live We comin' outta here, Lord, let us live Now who the fuck want war with the human gun store? Gangsta rap is where I live, just knock on the front door Niggas stunt more than Jackie Chan What the fuck them faggots sayin'? Nothin' When I walk in the club with the gat in hand Take 'em back to ninety four, shootin' out a Astro van Bangin' was the blueprint, money was the master plan Duffel bag full of Grants and Franklins Rob niggas take they money, shoot straight to the bank then Head to the barbershop to get chopped up Hearin' war stories who dead and who locked up Who snitchin', who pitchin' and who knocked up Fuck niggas in Black Wall Street I trust Black hoodies and black Asics standin' on the pavement Hustlers don't sleep, nigga, we work the grave shift Fuck that long money, nigga, get paid quick and don't save shit My hood's on the real dark side of the track No sunny skies, just really black We live real down here, Lord, let us live No playin' around here, Lord, let us live Don't hate my hood, just hate my shine We comin' out, we on our grind We live real down here, Lord, let us live We comin' outta here, Lord, let us live Lord knows that money don't matter Lord knows that status is badder Lord knows about the hood I live in Keeps takin' away but he's givin' Now don't give me these cars, Lord, let us live (No, no, no, no, no, no, no) Don't give me these mansions, Lord, let us live (No, no, no, no, no, no, no) Don't hate me, just let me ride Lord, just give me light I don't hate Mobb Deep or MOP That was a phase I was caught up in the beef like a rat in a maze And my legacy will never be that of a hater Lyrical rhyme slayer wack niggas say your prayers It's the return of Gandhi, criminal minded city behind me Put it on my face to remind me Of all the shit I been through, my physical presence My pen too nice, my first album sent you life I should've put down the mic when Rakim left Dre No clean up hitter so I was stranded on second base I had to steal third, motherfucker that's my word There's some Queens niggas try to put me back on the curb I was ultimate warrior to you, bully ass niggas I will come through the hood with the fully axe niggas Like Snoop or Suge, I'm in the coupe I'm good Mothafuckas make way My hood's on the real dark side of the track No sunny skies, just really black We live real down here, Lord, let us live No playin' around here, Lord, let us live Don't hate my hood, just hate my shine We comin' out, we on our grind We live real down here, Lord, let us live We comin' outta here, Lord, let us live Is that Michelle Chrisette? Black Wall, Coollie High, Scott Storch, let's ride O eight to infinity, California, New York, shit Scott Storch, Scott Storch Scott Storch, Scott Storch, Scott Storch