Quiet Storm (White Lines) Lyrics

Mobb Deep

Non-album songs

Lyrics to Quiet Storm (White Lines)
Quiet Storm (White Lines) Video:
In broad daylight get right.. Just been through it all man Blood sweat and tears Niggaz is dead and shit {*music fades in*} What the fuck else can happen yo? I don't think much more son, word to mother yo We done seen it all, and been through it all yo Let y'all niggaz know right now Word to mother, for real, for real That shit is the truth I'm not lyin.. [Prodigy] I put my lifetime in between the paper's lines I'm the "Quiet Storm" nigga who fight rhyme P yeah you heard of him but, I ain't concerned with them Nigga I pop more guns than you holdin them Make my route while the sun's out and scold your men Unload ten, in broad daylight, get right Fuck your life - hop on my ninety-eight dirt bike You try to stop mines from growin, I'll make your blood stop flowin Take affirmative action, to any ass if he askin (yeah aight) Now here come the mack 10 You'se a dick blower, tryin to speak the Dunn language What the drilly with that though? It ain't bangin You hooked on Mobb-phonics Infamous-bonics Lyin to the Pop Dog like you got it You ain't no wildin out for the night fist thrower Rusty shank holder, we live this shit Chorus: Havoc Cause it's the real shit, shit to make em feel shit (the real) Lump em in the club shit, have you wildin out when you bump this (hip-hop *echoes*) Drugs to your eardrum, the raw uncut Have a nigga OD cause it's never enough It's the real shit, shit to make em feel shit (the real) Lump em in the club shit, have you wildin out when you bump this (hip-hop *echoes*) Drugs to your eardrum, the raw uncut Have a nigga OD cause it's never enough [Prodigy] Yo the P rock forty inch cables, drinkin white label My chain hang down to my dick, my piece bang glass tables Diamonds and guns before the fame Duke A nigga like me hold tecs, are you the same too? Goin through the emotions, of gun holdin Long shotguns down my pants leg limpin Killer bee who still livin, even my pops too He taught me how to shoot when I was seven (yup) I used to bust shots crazy I couldn't even look because the loud sound used to scare me [POW!] I love my pops for that, I love my nigga D-Black I'll take the life of anybody tryin to change what's left And through all of that a nigga ain't scared of death All y'all brand new niggaz just scared to death I spent too many night sniffin coke, gettin right wastin my life, now I'm tryin to make things right Grand open some gates, invest, in Iraq business Do things for the kids (the little Dunns) Build a jungle gym behind the crib, so they can enjoy youth CBR's and VCR's ATV's and big screen TV's, nigga please Don't make me have to risk my freedom We worked our whole life for this, you get your shit beat in For real.. (yo) Chorus: Havoc Cause it's the real shit, shit to make em feel shit (hip-hop *echoes*) Lump em in the club shit, have you wildin out when you bump this Drugs to your eardrum, the raw uncut Have a nigga OD cause it's never enough [Prodigy] It go one, two, three to the fourth That nigga P-Double got that shit for y'alls peoples to rock to, stirrin up pots of brew in hell's kitchen, I chef the impossible To serve hot plates all across the unified states Sit down and sup with top rap reps We the streets that's watchin boy move diligent You better walk like a nigga on the tight rope do Infamous first infantry, first division fourth mission First assignment -- give em that shit they been missin My new edition's way bitchin Those that listen, get addicted to my diction Fuck rhymes I write prescriptions, for your diseased generic rap's just not potent like P's One-thousand one-hundred CC's on the throttle I peel off chest naked on Katanas Spaghetti head Mobb niggaz is full bred Fully blown melanin tone, I rock skeleton bone shirts and verses, but thirst for worse beats So I can put, more product out on the street Get respect and love, all across the board We've been adored, for keepin it raw, nuttin less or more I score everytime for sure while the rest of y'all niggaz just nil (To the real..) Chorus: Havoc Cause it's the real shit, shit to make em feel shit (hip-hop *echoes*) Lump em in the club shit, have you wildin out when you bump this Drugs to your eardrum, the raw uncut Have a nigga OD cause it's never enough It's the real shit, shit to make em feel shit (the real) Lump em in the club shit, have you wildin out when you bump this (hip-hop *echoes*) Drugs to your eardrum, the raw uncut Have a nigga OD cause it's never enough (the real... hip-hop)




Songwriters: JONES, KIMBERLY / MUCHITA, KEJUAN WALIEK / JOHNSON, ALBERT J. / GLOVER, MELVIN / ROBINSON, SYLVIA (USA)
Publisher: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
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