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Eye for a Eye (Your Beef Is Mines)

This song is by Mobb Deep and appears on the album The Infamous (1995) and on the album The Infamous... Mobb Deep (2014).

As time goes by, an eye for an eye
We in this together son your beef is mines
So long as the sun shines to light up the sky
We in this together son your beef is mines

Let me start from the beginning, at the top of the list
KnowhatI'mean? Have a situation like this
Another war story from a thirsty young hustler
Won't trust ya, I'd rather bust ya, and leave your corpse
For the cops to discover, while I be dippin in the Range Rover
All jewelled like Liberace

You watch me while Jakes tryin' to knock me and lock me
But I'll be on the low sippin Asti Spumante
Niggaz try to creep on the side of my jeep
Stuck the heat through the window rocked they ass to sleep
Over a 3-pack, it was a small thing really yeah
But keep lettin them small things slide and be a failure

If I'm out of town one of my crew'll take care of ya
The world is ours and your team's inferior
You wanna bust caps I get, all up in your area
Kidnap your children make the situation scarier
Life is a gamble, we scramble for money
I might crack a smile but ain't a damn thing funny

I'm caught up in the dirt where your hands get muddy
Plus the outcome turns out to be lovely
Got G's in my pocket hit off my main squeeze
Push back, the sunroof, let the cold air breeze
Through the butter soft leather upholestry
But mostly, keep the gat closely, 'cause niggaz wanna toast me

Yo I gotta get mines, no matter what the con-sequences
Count up my blessings, add up my weapons
Cock back the gat and let my nine serve purpose
Sling do my thing organize fiend servants
Tryin' to make a mil is stress you know the deal
So we sling drills get your cap peeled, 'cause everything is real
'Cause I wanna chill, laid up in a jacuzzi

Sippin bubbly, with my fingers on the uzi
Try to infiltrate my fort get caught
Dead up in New York, my brain is packed with criminal thoughts
Get your life lost never found again my friend
Mission completed, watch you drop in less than ten

On my road to the riches, hittin snitches off with mad stitches
Your last restin place'll be a ditch kid
No one can stop me try your style's sloppy
Want to be me, you're just an imitation copy
My theme is all about making the green
Livin' up in luxury, pushin phat whips and livin' comfortably

A drug dealer's dream
Stash CREAM keys on a triple beam
Five hundred SL green, ninety-five nickel gleam
Condominium, thug dressed like a gentleman
Tailor made ostrich, Chanel for my women friend
Murderin, numbers on your head while I'm burglarin
Shank is servin' em, whassup to all my niggaz swervin in
New York metropolis, the Bridge brings apocalypse

Shoot at the clouds feels like, the holy beast is watchin us
Mad man my sanity is goin' like an hourglass
Gun inside my bad hand I sliced tryin' to bag grams
I got hoes that used to milk you
Niggaz who could've killed you
Is down with my ill crew of psychoes
Nas Escobar movin on your weak production
Pumpin corruption in the third world we just bustin'

Hold up and analyze the wildcats slang cracks
They swing an axe, the new routines, be my eyes black's
Playin' corners glancin all up in your cornea
Corner ya, seen cats snatch monies up on ya
But late night, candlelight fiend with a crack right
It's only right, feelin' higher than an airplane right
Word yo, I want to get this money then blow

Take my time, blast a nine, if you front you go
Sip beers, the German ones, hand my guns to sons
Shaolin, and Queensbridge we robbin niggaz for fun
But still, write my will out to my seeds then build
Mahalia sing a tale but the real we still kill

Lay back
Word up, just bless em
With the bulletproof
Mobb Deep, Nas, Chef creation
For your nation


Written by:

Albert Johnson; Kejuan Waliek Muchita; Nasir Jones; Corey Woods

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