lirik lagu ikay – we ready
intro
yea,
dem fi know,
yo craig… weh yuh deh pon?
let’s do this, let’s get it,
for real,
yeah! da river, warminister… i got ya,
ha ha,
kingston, jamaica… let’s do this,
uh!
verse 1
fresh out da building, fresh off da corner,
fresh in da streets, you can crown me if you wanna,
uh!
i’m da king homie,
40 karats on da charm, i bling homie,
where you been homie?
in da streets all day tryin to get that gwap,
to da streets i pray trying to duck them shots,
(i’m maintaining dawg, cry nation all day… let’s do this, uh.)
me and my crew hungry,
ain’t nothing in this world like new money,
so where da brinks at?
ready to sink that,
(real talk homie… let’s do this, uh.)
it’s like nothing to kill a man,
n-gg-z get murdered for that white sh-t, ten kilograms,
i cry tears at nights and i’m still a man,
thousand pounds guerilla man,
yea, uh!
n-gg-z lackin vision, n-gg-z lackin trust,
n-gg-z lackin hope, heart filled wit l-st,
what’s love? i don’t know n-gg-! cry nation, that’s us,
yea,
i put my heart on da line so my n-gg-z could ride,
i never thought that n-gg-z could die,
g4 in da sky,
tell da angels that n-gg-z could fly,
getting off this corner, gotta say goodbye,
and i’m,
(yea! warminister, let’s do this.)
i’m back in da building, ready to die,
26 on that whip, ready to ride,
anger in my heart, blood in my eyes,
p-ssy n-gg-z get pushed to da side,
let dem die,
yea!
i got my stunnas on,
motherf-ckas got my hummer chromed,
lifestyle got da sickest stones,
i got a b-tch at home,
i call her ms patron,
high as a motherf-cka, can’t leave that b-tch alone,
i got paper to burn cuz i’m a live n-gg-,
f-ck wit kay then you gon die n-gg-,
let da 4,5 hit ya,
throwin dirt on my picture cuz i don’t ride wit ya,
uh!
look at them rocs that i got,
there’s rats on da block,
fake crews get clapped,
fake crews get back,
real g’s gon ball,
on da way to da top, real g’s never fall,
got chips for y’all,
kay be on it,
y’all don’t want it wit da young black h-rnet,
on his way to stardom,
makin moves in queens, stackin chips in harlem,
my chain so blue and my wrist orange,
and we still ballin,
ho’s still callin,
hennessey in da cup, yellow p-ss pourin,
rest in peace terry, pour some criss for him,
i miss you n-gg- and this sh-t’s boring,
i got you in my heart homie,
give ya family anything they want homie,
you my n-gg- from da start homie,
and i got ya!
outro
yea, uh!
da river, warminister, kingston jamaica,
yeah! that’s how we do it,
fo real… queens, new york!
yea, got this… we here,
cry nation, yea!
wh-ssup zala, craig… it’s all good, i’m here,
cry nation!
ikay! that’s my name n-gg-z,
get used to it,
ha ha ha.
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