Released: March 26, 2002
Songwriter: ILL BILL Goretex Sabac
Producer: DJ Premier
[Intro]
"And now it's time bring out the headliner for the evening..."
"Very Special... Please welcome to the stage..."
[Goretex]
Escape from New York, but I be on some Brooklyn bullshit
I pull clips as fast as I dose chicks with dope tits
Tommy Lee called, said the coke's arrivin' at six
Got my name all in your mouth like your liable to brick
Click me on the tube, chain swinging down to my shoes
Light up the room, african boom, spark it and zoom
Disciple of rock, the type who'll range rifles at cops
I'm spiteful, fakes get left shaking like Michael J. Fox
[Ill Bill]
I deliver AIDS-infected needle accupuncture
Gangster and hustler murderer and kidnap a suspect
Rapper and dusthead, from Blood red to Crip blue
My shit's too colorful, running through with a hundred goons and maniacs
If a bitch like to suck dick, she a brainiac
Bust up in they mouth piece, see how they react, take it back
Like a instant replay, live in the PJ's, watching my Uncle freebase
Analyzing the anguish on a fiend's face
I learned to love my trees laced, the way the PCP taste
The way it make me see things, old school dice spot bills and sheep skins
As I write this I'm rocking Iceberg jeans and Timbs
Thinking where I'm gon' be in 2007
Either a house in the Hamptons or a house in Heaven
I be chillin on the beach in the South of Venice
Or merking the President live on Channel 7
[Hook: DJ Premier scratches] - repeat 2X
"Coming through rocking"
"Wild like Rockstars who smash guitars" (Inspectah Deck)
"Non-Phixion"
"Unadulterated"
"Emcee's"
[Sabac Red]
I be Brooklyn till I die don't even question it twice
My crew nice, late night in them corners we shoot dice
Just like summertime in New York, jean-shorts, Timbs, Nubuck
Tanktops with kufis, groupies acting loosely
Who be in a black drop, with his hat cocked, that cat 'Bac
Puffin a stoge and spittin snapshots
I'm trying to live, feed the kids, drive some whips, handle biz
Own a crib, do my shit, in the streets, that's how it is
[Ill Bill]
If I say rock star, I'm talking about rocking the mic
My shit's hot like the rock a fiend drop in a pipe
These cats is idiots, with raps so pussy they catch periods
I'm serious, my life is like a drug experience
A porno movie with no plot and I'm the only guy in it
Like Vivid videos with Kobe Tai dime bitches
Ill Bill rap crusader, chilling in the black Navigator
Canarsie to Pennsylvania
"Wild..."
"Like..."
"Rock...Rockstars"
"Who...Who smash guitars"
[Hook]
[Goretex]
Break Mumia out, bang in with shells and heaters out
Blast off the terrorist, blow bombs and speakers out
Hookers and bricks, gutter cats, bitches and pimps
Cripples and Gimps, ex-cons, pushers and tricks
Street poet, speak the essence, what's realer than this
Up in the club smoked out coke, the feeling of Cris
You light in the wrist, Richard Simmons fro with a pick
Taking my record label hostage if they stoppin my shit
[Sabac Red]
I remember them cold nights and long lines for clubs
Now it's strictly V.I.P., free drinks and drugs
Pounds and hugs, getting back rubs, we them underground thugs
Who stay street but got new found love
Take a Continental, drive a rental, travel the globe
Non Phixion to the end worldwide we rock shows
Explode from out the projects, Glenwood to Throggs Neck
Hold your drink up, and make a toast to how the gods get
[Hook] - 2x
"And now it's time bring out the headliner for the evening..."
"Very Special... Please welcome to the stage..."
[Goretex]
Escape from New York, but I be on some Brooklyn bullshit
I pull clips as fast as I dose chicks with dope tits
Tommy Lee called, said the coke's arrivin' at six
Got my name all in your mouth like your liable to brick
Click me on the tube, chain swinging down to my shoes
Light up the room, african boom, spark it and zoom
Disciple of rock, the type who'll range rifles at cops
I'm spiteful, fakes get left shaking like Michael J. Fox
[Ill Bill]
I deliver AIDS-infected needle accupuncture
Gangster and hustler murderer and kidnap a suspect
Rapper and dusthead, from Blood red to Crip blue
My shit's too colorful, running through with a hundred goons and maniacs
If a bitch like to suck dick, she a brainiac
Bust up in they mouth piece, see how they react, take it back
Like a instant replay, live in the PJ's, watching my Uncle freebase
Analyzing the anguish on a fiend's face
I learned to love my trees laced, the way the PCP taste
The way it make me see things, old school dice spot bills and sheep skins
As I write this I'm rocking Iceberg jeans and Timbs
Thinking where I'm gon' be in 2007
Either a house in the Hamptons or a house in Heaven
I be chillin on the beach in the South of Venice
Or merking the President live on Channel 7
[Hook: DJ Premier scratches] - repeat 2X
"Coming through rocking"
"Wild like Rockstars who smash guitars" (Inspectah Deck)
"Non-Phixion"
"Unadulterated"
"Emcee's"
[Sabac Red]
I be Brooklyn till I die don't even question it twice
My crew nice, late night in them corners we shoot dice
Just like summertime in New York, jean-shorts, Timbs, Nubuck
Tanktops with kufis, groupies acting loosely
Who be in a black drop, with his hat cocked, that cat 'Bac
Puffin a stoge and spittin snapshots
I'm trying to live, feed the kids, drive some whips, handle biz
Own a crib, do my shit, in the streets, that's how it is
[Ill Bill]
If I say rock star, I'm talking about rocking the mic
My shit's hot like the rock a fiend drop in a pipe
These cats is idiots, with raps so pussy they catch periods
I'm serious, my life is like a drug experience
A porno movie with no plot and I'm the only guy in it
Like Vivid videos with Kobe Tai dime bitches
Ill Bill rap crusader, chilling in the black Navigator
Canarsie to Pennsylvania
"Wild..."
"Like..."
"Rock...Rockstars"
"Who...Who smash guitars"
[Hook]
[Goretex]
Break Mumia out, bang in with shells and heaters out
Blast off the terrorist, blow bombs and speakers out
Hookers and bricks, gutter cats, bitches and pimps
Cripples and Gimps, ex-cons, pushers and tricks
Street poet, speak the essence, what's realer than this
Up in the club smoked out coke, the feeling of Cris
You light in the wrist, Richard Simmons fro with a pick
Taking my record label hostage if they stoppin my shit
[Sabac Red]
I remember them cold nights and long lines for clubs
Now it's strictly V.I.P., free drinks and drugs
Pounds and hugs, getting back rubs, we them underground thugs
Who stay street but got new found love
Take a Continental, drive a rental, travel the globe
Non Phixion to the end worldwide we rock shows
Explode from out the projects, Glenwood to Throggs Neck
Hold your drink up, and make a toast to how the gods get
[Hook] - 2x