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Mobb Deep - Survival of the Fittest

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Yeah, sending this one out to my man, Killa B. No doubt indeed. Know what I'm saying?

There's a war going on outside no man is safe from. You could run but you can't hide forever from these streets that we done took. You walking with your head down scared to look. You shook because ain't no such things as halfway crooks. They never around when the beef cooks in my part of town. It's similar to Vietnam. Now we all grown up and old, and beyond the cops' control. They better have the riot gear ready. Trying to bag me and get rocked steady by the mac one-double. I touch you, and leave you with not much to go home with. My skin is thick because I be up in the mix of action. If I'm not at home puffing lye, relaxing, New York got a nigga depressed. So I wear a slug-proof underneath my Guess. God bless my soul before I put my foot down and begin to stroll. And to the drama I built and all unfinished beef, you will soon be killed. Put us together. It's like mixing vodka and milk. I'm going out blasting, taking my enemies with me, and if not, they scarred, so they will never forget me. Lord forgive me. The Hennesey got me not knowing how to act. I'm falling, and I can't turn back. Or maybe it's the words from my man Killer Black that I can't say, so it's left an untold fact until my death. My goal's to stay alive. Survival of the fit. Only the strong survive.

Yo, yo. We living this until the day that we die. Survival of the fit. Only the strong survive. We living this until the day that we die. Survival of the fit. Only the strong survive. We living this until the day that we die. Survival of the fit. Only the strong survive. We living this until the day that we die. Survival of the fit. Only the strong survive.

I'm trapped in between two worlds trying to make dough, you know. When the dough get low, the jewels go but never that. As long as fiends smoke crack, I'll be on the block hustling, counting my stacks. No doubt watching my back and proceed with caution. 5-0 lurking. No time to get lost in the system. Brothers using fake names to get out quick. My brother did it, and got bagged with two ounces. Illegal world where squads hit the block hard. Ask my man Twin when he got bagged, that messed me up, god. But things happen for a reason. You find out who's your true peoples when you're up north bleeding. You can't find a shorty to troop your bid with you. Hit with a 2 to 4. It's difficult. Wild on the streets I try to maintain. Tight with my loot because shorties like to run game. Some brothers like to trick, but I ain't with that tricking tip. I'm like a Jew. Saving dough so I can big whip. Pushing a Lex. Now I'm set. Ready to jet. No matter how much loot I get, I'm staying in the projects forever. Jake's on the blocks. We out clever. If beef, we never separate and pull together. When worse comes to worst, my peoples come first. Try to react and, word is bond, get your feelings hurt. My crew's all about loot. Forget looking cute. I'm strictly Timb boots and Army certified suits. Puffin Ls, laid back, enjoying the smell. In the Bridge, getting down it ain't hard to tell. You better realize.

We living this until the day that we die. Survival of the fit. Only the strong survive.

Look in the eyes and get wise. Look alive, in '95. Word up. Hypnotic thug life. Know what I'm saying? Mobb Deep and all that.

Video Details

Duration: 3 minutes and 44 seconds
Country: United States
Language: English
License: All rights reserved
Views: 139
Posted by: eslhiphop.com on Sep 9, 2013

This video is part of ESLhiphop.com's learning series. I do not own this music, the lyrics or video. Used for educational purposes. All Rights Reserved.

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