Bullets ain’t racial, kid…they only hate you.
Kool G. Rap, “The Realest,” from Mobb Deep’s Murda Muzik, 1999
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Bullets ain’t racial, kid…they only hate you.
Kool G. Rap, “The Realest,” from Mobb Deep’s Murda Muzik, 1999
The route to all evil…daily I chase it.
Blow it on weed and drink, and hustle to replace it.
Eight Ball, “Where Ya From,” from Mobb Deep’s Murda Muzik, 1999
The sunset looks beautiful over the projects…
What a shame, it ain’t the same where we stand at.
If you look close, you can see the bricks chipped off.
Sometimes niggas miss when they lick off.
Prodigy, “Streets Raised Me,” Murda Muzik, 1999