(Jay-R) Sniper Hol' up It's a new day Uh, raah! Boy, I'm from the block, it ain't no fakin' it I will have my Haitians eat your face and shit Coming out my hood, it ain't no making it If I catch you slipping then I'm taking it Boy, I'm from the block, it ain't no fakin' it I will have my Haitians eat your face and shit Coming out my hood, it ain't no making it If I catch you slipping then I'm taking it Golden Acres shit, cuffed down to my anklet Little boy don't play with me, I merk you and your neighbors And I ain't on that label shit, so keep your papers bitch Project Baby, fuck that Sega and PlayStation shit Me and my nigga running crazy home invasion shit Paper chasing jit, snapping snatching chains and shit Stupid boy my mama Haitian don't you play like that I'm a sniper, I'm a sniper, I'm a Baker Act Coming out my hood, you ain't got no chance Shoot you where you stand, that's your right-hand man Ain't no fakin' it, I make you lose your sleep You will see the streets vouch for me 'Cause I bleed the streets I grew up in the streets so fuck the industry Sticky weed and it came from Italy I finesse the set, you should never slack Trying to run up on me, well, don't you think like that Boy, I'm from the block, it ain't no fakin' it I will have my Haitians eat your face and shit Coming out my hood, it ain't no making it If I catch you slipping then I'm taking it Boy, I'm from the block, it ain't no fakin' it I will have my Haitians eat your face and shit Coming out my hood, it ain't no making it If I catch you slipping then I'm taking it Ain't no making it, more cake than a bakery Once you start that beef, nigga ain't no shaking it Hoodrat, say cheese, Kodak take a pic Don't you catch a strap attack 'cause man that dangerous Trap code, huh, I made this shit I made a molly slushy, bitch, come take a sip What set you claim? Boy, what game you playing? You not from my hood, 'cause we don't talk the same You don't play with pistols, you don't got no gang Where your money came, shoot you like you lame You can't get them bitches kick you out the frame Project baby man, I don't fuck around with no lame I took your shit, I'm gon' plumb it up Give that sack right to me, watch me run it up I'm a sniper nigga 'cause it's my favorite sport I can't go to school 'cause it's too many dorks Boy, I'm from the block, it ain't no fakin' it I will have my Haitians eat your face and shit Coming out my hood, it ain't no making it If I catch you slipping then I'm taking it Boy, I'm from the block, it ain't no fakin' it I will have my Haitians eat your face and shit Coming out my hood, it ain't no making it If I catch you slipping then I'm taking it (Sniper)

Why did I actually think it would work out When I'm basically banned from your house Now you're standing on the corner so upset But if I try to comfort her, I know we're gonna end up having sex again Everybody in high school claims they've been in love Why won't these dumb teenagers just grow up? Everybody in high school claims they've been in love Why won't these dumb teenagers just grow up? Ima tell my dad I'm feeling under the weather Ima run and tell my momma too I'm faking sick, I'm faking sick To get out of another day of school Why did I actually think teenage girls mattered? When every time I left her house,I felt beat and battered Ima stay inside and skip that bullshit for today Playing songs inside is what I like doin' anyway Everybody in high school claims they tuff Why won't these dumb teenagers just grow up? Everybody in high school claims they tuff Why won't these dumb teenagers just grow up? Ima tell my dad I'm feeling under the weather Ima run and tell my old momma too I'm fakin' sick, I'm fakin' sick To get out of another day of school

F/ Pete Rock Verse One: Pete Rock Check it out As I commence lyrical content now bust the grammar Niggaz tryin to make flip out like David Banner Bustin out the garments slammin shit like Onyx When I'm vex I flex and turn green like the chronic When I bug out you bound to get snuffed out for frontin Busy deceivin achievin nothin If you can't walk the walk, don't talk the talk It's Pete Rock and InI comin straight from New York Now all the setups you thought you stepped up to get your rep up The joke's on you jack (true dat, word) Cause when I came through the door my mind was thinkin all out war I'ma settle the score, once and for all Ain't no time for fakin jax when it's time for makin stacks I'm droppin bombs like acts in the bible with my recital So recline like a passenger seat Son, relax As I take you to the max, homeboy you fakin ji-dax Chorus Verse Two: InI Yeah, check it You never success or progress Searchin for peace through material objects You go to extremes in the process Acuse others, when it's you showin your true colors Busy sellin your dreams, but all your cream Contributes to your lack of self-esteem So it would seem, cause every day of the week, you act different You see your peoples, you speak, your eyes shifted Frontin what Son you love to perform But when the crowd's gone, word is bond, you get your merc on Is this the real definition of what a snake is Y'all should of been politicians, that's where the cake is, but It didn't work with the fake ass smirk See the meek shall inherit the earth, for what it's worth, uhh Turn around yo you backwards, you know what the facts is You fakin jax kid Chorus Verse Three: InI Your blood You're worth lead if you can't bring home the cake to get the youths fed We used to harvest now it's work instead So, to get ahead to hit the nail on the head, it's hard work Cause America jerks, takin tax and perks out the check So father sweats from workin for the next Just to connect, so man listen A comfortable position's what I'm after So all the while, I'm preparin myself to meet the master Check it, so we suggest you put a F on your chest A wolf in sheep's clothing's what describes you best Nevertheless, I roast your ass like chestnuts I got guts plus cuts from Pete Rock And it don't stop, the ghetto mass' in your grill If you lack the will to step up then please chill On the real, real brothers got each others backs While all these phony niggaz keep on fakin the jax It's like that Chorus

Why don't we stop foolin' ourselves? The game is over, over, over No good times, no bad times There's no times at all Just The New York Times Sittin' on the windowsill Near the flowers We might as well be apart It hardly matters, we sleep separately And drop a smile passin' in the hall But there's no laughs left 'Cause we laughed them all And we laughed them all In a very short time Time is tapping on my forehead Hangin' from my mirror Rattlin' the teacups And I wonder- How long can I delay? We're just a habit, like saccharin And I'm habitually feelin' kinda blue But each time I try on the thought of leavin' you I stop I stop and think it over

Blessed are the meek for they shall inherit Blessed is the lamb whose blood flows Blessed are the sat upon, spat upon, ratted on Oh, Lord, why have you forsaken me? I got no place to go I've walked around Soho for the last night or so Ah, but it doesn't matter, no Blessed is the land and the kingdom Blessed is the man whose soul belongs to Blessed are the meth drinkers, pot sellers, illusion dwellers Oh, Lord, why have you forsaken me? My words trickle down From a wound that I have no intention to heal Blessed are the stained glass, window pane glass Blessed is the church service, makes me nervous Blessed are the penny rookers, cheap hookers, groovy lookers Oh, Lord, why have you forsaken me? I, I have tended my own garden much too long

Cloudy The sky is gray and white and cloudy Sometimes I think it's hanging down on me And it's a hitchhike a hundred miles I'm a ragamuffin child Pointed finger, painted smile I left my shadow waitin' down the road for me a while Cloudy My thoughts are scattered and they're cloudy They have no borders, no boundaries They echo and they swell From Tolstoy to Tinker Bell Down from Berkeley to Carmel Got some pictures in my pocket and a lot of time to kill Hey, sunshine I haven't seen you in a long time Why don't you show your face and bend my mind? These clouds stick to the sky Like a floating question, "Why?" They linger there to die They don't know where they're going and, my friend, neither do I Cloudy Cloudy Cloudy Cloudy Cloudy

Old friends, old friends Sat on their park bench like bookends A newspaper blown through the grass Falls on the round toes Of the high shoes of the old friends Old friends, winter companions, the old men Lost in their overcoats, waiting for the sunset The sounds of the city sifting through trees Settle like dust on the shoulders of the old friends Can you imagine us years from today Sharing a park bench quietly? How terribly strange to be 70 Old friends, memory brushes the same years Silently sharing the same fears