(Chorus)
It's yours
Whose world is this
The world is yours...
It's mine...
I sip the Don P, watching Gandhi till I'm charged
And writing in my book of rhymes, all the words pass the margin
Then hold the mic, I'm throbbing, mechanical movement
Understandable smooth shit that murderers move wit
The thief's theme, play me at night, they won't act right
The fiend of hip-hop has got me stuck like a crackpipe
The mind activation, react like I'm facing
Time like Perry mason wit pens I'm embracing
Wipe the sweat off my dome, spit the phelgm on the streets
Suede Tims on my feets, make my cypher complete
Whether crusing in a sixth cab or Montero jeep
I can't call it the beats make me falling asleep
I keep falling but never falling 6 feet deep
I'm out for presidents to represent me
I'm out for presidents to represent me
I'm out for dead presidents to represent me
Chorus
To my man Illwill, God bless your life
To my peoples throughout Queens, God bless your life
I trip nex box of crazy bitches, aiming guns in all my baby pictures
Beef wit housing police, release scriptures that's made me Hitlers
Yet I'm the mild money, getting style, rolling foul
The versatile honey, sticking wild golden child
Dwelling in the rotten apple, you get tackle
Or caught by the devil's lasso, shit is a hassle
There's no days for broke days but selling smoke pays
While all the old folks pray to Jesus so many sins and trays
Of holy water, odds against Nas' slaughter
Thinking a word best describing my life to name my daughter
My strength, my son, the star, will be my resurrection
Born in correction all the wron shit i did, he'll lead a right direction
How ya living, large or broke, but charge cards are mediocre
You flipping coke or playing spit spades in strip poker
Chorus
I'm the young city bandit, hold myself down singlehanded
For murder raps, I kick my thought along, get remanded
Born along, die along, no crew to keep my crown or throne
I peep my sal' along, cave inside a thousand miles from home
I need a new nigga for this black crowd to follow
Cuz whylings over me, it's too dark to see tomorrow
Trying to maintain, I flip, feel equip to the tip
Picturing my peeps ?nadd in? could make my heartbeat skip
And I'm amped up, they locked the champ up
Even my brain's in handcuffs
Heading for Indiana stabbing women like the Phantom
The crew is lamping big Willie style
Check the chip tooth smile plus I profile wild
Stash through the flock, clothes burning, dollars to light my stove
Walk the blocks wit a bop, checking danes plus the games people play
Bust the problems of the world today
Chorus
Yea, aight, to everybody in Queens, the foundation
The world is yours
To everybody uptown, yo, the world is yours
The world is yours
To everybody in Brooklyn, y'all know the world is yours
The world is yours
Everbody in Mt Ronin, the world is yours
Long Island, the world is yours
Staten Island, yea the world is yours
South Bronx, the world is yours
Aight
