White Chalk, Pt. 2 (Reference Track) lyrics

by

Busta Rhymes


[Verse 1: The Notorious B.I.G]
Here's the situation: Larce got shot, now he facin' heaven or hell
But he living to tell who f*cking did it, I got my crimey down wit' it
Just a grimy as me, slimy as me, check it
I got a long list of names and addresses
Even know the store where his momma buy her dresses
She gon' be the first one to ride in a Hearse son
Worse come to worse I'll kill his sister, I'll know he'll miss her
They just a family, other half of me, them n*ggas scared of me
I hope they prepared to be shot at, hit up with baseball bats
Thrown in the back of the Ac' with a trunk full of rats
Drive to Brooklyn and back, take him to the pier (Where?)
Way up in the back where the bums sleep at
Look him in the eye, "You wanna die, don't ya?"
"If you could change everything you did, you would, won't ya?"
But you can't, 'cause my brother can't breathe
Watching him bleed in the hospital, I had to leave
All I wanna do is kill your crew
Your grand moms might get wet on the church-house steps
The beef is set, whatever, show you the meaning of pressure
Killing faggot n*ggas like ya'll for pleasure (uh)
You can't measure, the pain that's inside - homicide
You can run but you can't hide
When the Benz with the tint's in front of your residence
Everybody on the stoop getting bent
White Chalk
[Instrumental Break]

[Verse 2: Craig G]
This n*gga Blake told me to be calm and breathe slowly
You know me, I flip, n*ggas was tryna hold me
Called the hospital lobby, the doctor said he'll probably
Die, G, arms taped up with IVs
Heard he got blast and the sh*t surprised me
Larceny on his back, that some sh*t I can't see
But I can see me putting putting you on T.V
Yyou and your crew, Channel 22 news
Walkin' with cement shoes, stepping on seashells
In the bottom of the ocean, who the f*ck you gon' tell?
Who the f*ck you gon' see that can outlast me?
Outlast me, stamina's nasty
Call erase on Trife, well Blake call me Snake
How you gonna act when you hear these .9s break?
Car doors closing, trench coats open
Tommy gun start smoking
Leave you on a cold street, chokin'
On your own blood, f*ck the joking, I ain't kidding
MAC spitting, n*ggas gettin' hit, backflippin' wounded
Tryna plea, breaking off full speed
Jumping over gates, screaming, "Vec, it wasn't me"
I see the fear as I stare through these Cartier lenses
You 10 yards ahead jumping fences
Breathing mad hard, begging God for forgiveness
But he ain't hearing you, so I'ma end this, fatality, finished
Death is calling, Ruger hit you 5 times while you was falling
White chalk started drawing
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