Got the Nerve

[IMF Blue Steele]
Aiyo, it seems like, New York forgot about Jay
No, this song is not about Jay
It's about the way, the game is spoiled
It's a wrap like the game is foil
My pain is for you, I miss you Grandpop
Yeah, nigga, loyal, I miss you BIG, Pac
How many deaths I got to watch?
When I was young, my first death was Scott LaRock
And I was like, eleven or twelve
Whoever killed him, I hope that nigga dead or in jail
I know it's not a person that can't pass away
But they ain't have to do that to Jam Master Jay
And it's a damn shame, how y'all can't explain
How Pac got murdered, or BIG got killed
It's a dirty game, I guess I gotta live with y'all filth
But I'm stuck in this ship that y'all built
And when I first met hip hop, everything was dope or hype
And it was dope to write, it wasn't dope to bite
And rap was war, ropes with ice
And you was fresh, in the fresh pair of them Flights
Old tonics, and the Caddy low
Bumping Stetsasonic and Daddy-O
But look where you had me go
Way back there, I wish it stayd back there

[Chorus 2X: Smokey]
Lo and behold they still got the gold
And a bucket of dimes and they all still rhyme
A bunch of lies, and they got the nerve to sell it to you, you...

[IMF Blue Steele]
Yo, it seem like New York forgot about Biggie
No, this song is not about Biggie
It's about the city, and how I really
Realize, these rap niggas high saddity
Y'all got too pretty, the block like "Who is he?
He ain't the same nigga from before
Before he got that Benz, before he went on tour
He used to be right out here, in front of the stores
Now he acting different since he won 'em awards
So the hood don't want him no more"
Cuz he changed up, but he still trying to claim us
Thinking we gon' love him cuz he famous
Shit, shit, you getting money from them shows
We getting money from these O's, looking bummy in our clothes
And tell me it's a hold cuz it's never full
Keep the clips in our berettas full
And uh, if you turn around and look
Then you could simply see, before that Bentley V
Before that MVP, you was probably on the bench with me
Contemplenting on that Bentley V
And every night I stand up, pulling my pants up
On the corner with an L, getting closer to cancer
Hoping the answers'll come to me on the script
Car flipped, with the semi on my hip
Son, my city is the shit

[Chorus 2X]

[Hook: Smokey]
All this shining, all this grinding
All this lying, and they got the nerve to sell it to you
All this shining, all this grinding
All y'all lying, and y'all got the nerve to sell it to who?

[Chorus 2X]