Shyheim The Rugged Child- On and On

Little Brother - So Fabulous

(Prodigy)
Don't get scared, just be prepared for the worst
The streets coerced my mind with crime
My 9 busts shots and outbursts
Through your back out your thinker
And show these crab niggas the power of the finger
Quran, you wouldn't believe the shit I fell upon
It was me and Havoc sippin' on Moet Chandon
I went outside to drain my main vein for some relief
Found a backpack full of G notes
And like a thief, I snatched it up
Back at the crib I stashed it up
Waited two days and started spendin' it fast as fuck
Straight up splurgin'
Open like a virgin with her first piece of dick, 10 yards ain't shit
I blessed all the gods with thousands and cars
No more hustlin', now we can open up bars
To wash all this money clean
Nigga, it's the American dream, but it ain't as easy as it seems
‘Cause now these mob niggas looking for they cream
And word got back through this fiend that it was me
Who stole they lucci
Now they putting out hits tryin' to shoot me
But I'm out in L.A. on the low livin' Gucci
And lavish, they tryin' to take they money back
It's two to they cabbage, Quran, what's the haps, kid?
(Man its whatever, I got the heat we can do this 'cause yo)

Hook x2
We all one when when it comes down to it
Bloodshed and war, yo, we gotta live through it

(Quran)
I break through with my WB crew Q Ball packs
The steel having niggas running like fire drills
We sending fronters on permanent vacations like Jason
You'll get cut in half and left with your heart racin'
By the TEC you'll get smashed together like a cleavage
And left a mystery like when Mary had Jesus
Nigga, I'm sniping crowds
Like that white kid on Higher Learning
Leave you on the ground with your fucking chest burning
What! We breaking out and unstoppable like acne
I'm rough and rugged, you cut more slack than khakis
When the Philly takes you to another state of mind
It causes you to wild and commit mad crimes
We dwell in the dark trees, sellin' Jeeps, '95 Blazers
Call us a bunch of hell raisers
Timberlands and Skullys is all you see
When you enter the harsh and rugged lands of Illy Philly

(Havoc)
It was a quarter to one, friday night
Loaded up the guns, jump on the horn, called up my son
"Son, yo, come through, I got a proposition for you
Keep it on the low so the plan won't spoil"
My crew's loyal, they came over in a minute
Then we kicked 'bout this nigga who think he getting bigger
Pumping on our side
Don't even know him from a hole in the wall
Tonight is gonna be his downfall
So fuck him and everything he stand for
About this time he'd be on the corner
Slingin; with a crackhead that be bringin
Sales to the building, plus the bitch is fiendin'
I figure we can get the goods, kill the nigga
And being that we live right next to the river
We can catch him off guard
Throw him in the water for the Coast Guard
Come on, god, the shit ain't hard
Think! Throw on your gear and cover up your face
And keep your eyes open for the Jakes
The snakes and the snitches
Don't wanna see a nigga with the riches
Acting like a little bunch of bitches
Pointing me out in pictures
When five-oh is like, "You know who this is?"
It's Havoc, you better recognize and realize

Da Youngstas ft Mobb Deep | Bloodshed & War (1995) DJ Filthy Rich Mix

Pete Rock-  The Cake (instrumental)

feat. Big Noyd & Vita
Off the album Infamy (2001)
Gay-Z Diss
Starring:Havoc and Prodigy

Mobb Deep - The Learning(Burn)

Prodigy of Mobb Deep The One and Only (Phat Tape Remix)

YOOO WHATS UP EVERYONE !! HERE IS THE NEW 2026 ALBUM COLLABORATION FEATURING MY BRO DAVID CROSBY ! HOPE YOU WILL ALL ENJOY & LETS DRR11LLL TH3 FUUUCK SUUP'! 

HDWAV 5.1 - SW33TT 3V1L DRR11LLL 0FF1C14L R3M1X COLLABORATION FT DAVID CROSBY - The Don's Decree Bar

Still here.
Still fed.

[Hook]

Refueled, never empty
Still fed, still steady
No rush, no envy
Prime time — ready

Refueled, never stressed
Heavy steps, light chest
No resurrection
Just progress

[Verse 1]

I don’t need to snake, but rhymes do still rattle
Attack, never talking back, smacked with the taste of truth
I’m the flea on your back, that itch you can’t scratch

You escaping down the hatch, this was just a clash
That’s it — game, set, match
Broken back, watching the wins stack up
Losses rack up for you, still spitting the truth

No, don’t do that, let go of the lyrical noose
I’ll give you a time-out
Need another career route
Be wise or you’ll be foaming at the mouth

I reflect — still here, still up to my neck
With the things I can’t control
If the world was mine, I would have it all

You gotta learn to crawl before you walk
Then run, then fly
Still out here saying “never say die”

That’s right, I’m kind of goonie
They try to lock me up for acting all Looney Tooney
I just create Looney Tunes to bump to
When you’re having the blues

Here’s a clue to find your way through the dark
All you need is this lyrical spark
That ignites when I spit with my last dying breath

I’ve been breaking bad,
But I’m not cooking meth, bitch!

[Hook]

Refueled, never empty
Still fed, still steady
No rush, no envy
Prime time — ready

Refueled, never stressed
Heavy steps, light chest
No resurrection
Just progress

[Verse 2]

So that’s life, as Sinatra would say
Line my years up and watch the rest fade away
Like the days of our youth, still spitting circles
Still living proof

That you don’t need to get famous to rap big and rap hard
I’d rather be myself than lose my mind behind bars

Gotta have some kind of grip on reality
Before the plane shifts and all that I’m facing
Is different versions of me

Dark shadows of twisted mind states
Disformed faces, looking around, not seeing these places
My words explore different realities
Misplaced words in another state of mind

Lines and bars not fitting in this time
Should be a crime
Not looking forward to another version of me
Deadly, grinning at me now, the room spinning with me

But you see, I defect that version of me
I bring the heat, words turn into gun
Leave you blind in a heap, learning to see what I see

Lyrical assassin when I’m holding this pen
It was divine intervention again
You wish you could create an invention
To go back to the start

But no time travel for you
Scratching at my cellar door
Leave you alone in the dark, Donnie
You don’t even get my lyrical spark.

[Hook – Final]

Refueled, never empty
Still fed, still steady
No rush, no envy
Prime time — ready

[Outro – Spoken]

No shortcuts.
Just time.

REFUELED

DeadM8

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