Right Back At You (Original Version) lyrics

by

Prodigy of Mobb Deep


[Produced by Havoc]

[Verse 1: Prodigy]
Now, '94 to '95, innocent without crime...
(Drop that sh*t) Yeah, yeah, check it out
Now run for your life, or you wanna get your heat, whatever
We can die together
As long as I send your maggot ass to the essence
I don't give a f*ck about my presence
I'm lost in the blocks of hate and can't wait
For the next crab n*gga to step and meet fate
I'm lethal when I see you, there is no sequel
24-7, mac 11 is my people
So why do you wanna end your little life like this?
Cause now you've bump heads with kids that's lifeless
I live by the day only if I survive
The last night, damn right, I ain't tryin' to fight
We can settle this like some grown men on the concrete floor
My slugs will put a stop to your hardcore
Ways of action, I grab the gat, then
Ain't no turning back when I start blastin'
Pick up the handle and insert the potion
c*ck the sh*t back in a calm like motion
No signs of anger or fear cause you the one in danger
Never share your plans with a stranger, word is bond
Check it out, now
[Hook]
I put the drop on you kid, now I got you
You got the heart to get busy without your crew?
Let's get it on n*gga, do what we gotta do
You buckin' me, I'm buckin' right back at you

I put the drop on you kid, now I got you
You got the heart to get busy without your crew?
Let's get it on n*gga, do what we gotta do
You buckin' me, I'm buckin' right back at you

Check it out, Check it out, Check it out, now
Check it out, Check it out, Check it out, now
Check it out, Check it out, Check it out, now

[Verse 2: Havoc]
f*ck where you're at kid, it's where you're from
Cause where I'm from, n*ggas pack nothin' but the big guns
Around my way, n*ggas don't got remorse for out-of-towners
Come through fronting and get stuffed with the 3-pounder
The loud sounder, ear ringer
And I'm a point the finger, at all you wannabe gunslingers
You got a real ice grill but are you really real
Step to the hill and I'm a test your gun skills
Cause real n*ggas don't try to profile
You just a chump who needs to get drunk to buckwild
But swing that bullsh*t this way
And I'm a make your visit to the bridge a motherf*cking short stay
Queensbridge, that's where I'm from
The place where stars are born and phony rappers get done
6 blocks and you might not make it through
What you gonna do when my whole crew is blazing at you
With macs and tecs to lend to get your dome crush
You thought that you could come around my way you beef, stupid f*ck
What the hell you smoking? What the f*ck possessed you
To come out your face, now I have to wet you
Throw on my Timbs, black mask and black serpent
Twist a n*gga cap, then jump in the J-30, Cause I'm -
[Hook]
I put the drop on you kid, now I got you
You got the heart to get busy without your crew?
Let's get it on n*gga, do what we gotta do
You buckin' me, I'm buckin' right back at you

[Verse 3: Hype Da Madman]
Straight up and down, Imma let you know now
You feel the gunshot bloaw from the Red Eye style
Now pass the owl and let me roll the method
sh*t’s hectic while I’m cested, where’s the mic? Let me wreck it, check it
My rugged rhyme, lyrical design hit your spine
Every time that the Red Eye shine
Blinds the naked eye cause they can’t see through
The smoked screen behind the scene stands the Red Eye crew
Now it’s true, my spiritual comes through my physical
Both connected by the method, therefore I’m lyrical
So what you gonna down I come to pursue
With my Tec 22 and infra red on you?
For real, my laser beam likes to see when I squeeze
I’m like a sniper when I strike you, steady busting from trees
MCs, you know my steez, I’m living trifle with the rifle
Punks I make them stifle feed they ass to my disciples

[Verse 4: Big Noyd]
My little thug's selling drugs and he's struggling
The game got him bugging, I trying to tell him slow down cousin
But he vexed and n*ggas getting wet up in the projects
But with no doubt, shortie's out for his respect
But is his brain insane from the lye?
From smoking that one eighteen tiny tye
Why, a n*gga just died last week
As he swore he was grown and he's a thug in the street
And it's like that, my crew pump cracks and we pack macs
His eyes is wild with the rezzy monkey on his back
But I'm stressed and I need to be blessed
With a firepack, don't even go there cause it ain't like that
Slow down baby, he said, what, you trying to play me?
You must be crazy, pulled out the heat and almost blazed me
Then he was Swayze...
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