Growth And Development Songtext / Lyric

Yeah, yeah, summertime, New York City, stand up

Staten Island, stand up, whoo, yeah, it's a beautiful thing

Gotta bring the colors out now, I got the Nikes

The new things, two bangers, shit is banging song

Ah, yo, yo, yo



I'm in the hood once again, and I'm loving the vibe

All my veteran muthafuckas, we be keeping it live

Even down on G-Street, we be sick with the highs

You niggas is growing up now, they slick with the five

This kid got shot yesterday, Tamik died

Yo, my projects is warm, but it's cold on the outside

I'm still in the building, I live like I'm homeless

Though I love my children, so we reunite once again

I'm a lifeless feeling, yo, love for my fans, bring spiritual healing

With the wisdom, to manifest the best, I feel blessed

Living in the place where I call my rest

Piss in the elevator, shit on the steps, help you appreciate your last breath

What's up next? Call me collect

Yo, Staten Island, Wu-Tang Forever and we paid our debt






As the night shine, and the people slept

I came back in the game, I paid my respect

Growth and development, bought me a check, yo, my mind is set

As I sat by the window, and I find my texts

Yo, my cab popped off, I got more assets

And I love my seeds more than I cash my checks

God save me... whoo... hook up with Don'



Dog, I'm from the same damn place where the Wu was built

Where 2 Cent, Rakio and Boo Boo was killed

Same hood where them crooked ass cops killed Kase

And the judge don't do shit but smile in your face

For the world, why should I, the only way I'mma get drafted

Is by them baskets, playing ball til I die

Temperature's, I rapped though, never had a jumpshot

Fourteen years old, pro basing for one glock

Focus on the fortune and the fame, the glamour and the glitter

Here now, I ain't joking with you lames

The money was the first love in my life

Fell in love with law, but look at Todd G like my wife

Been a long time, I'm getting it right

In a better position, an opportunity to better my life

Freestyle, better off when I write

I'm a lyricist, you one hitter quitter

Like Whitney and Mike, the rebirth, now we getting it right

Hue Hefna, Cappadonna, Q-Dini flow

Spitting it right, yeah



Why them blind eyes think they can see, what's really happening?

Build with the O.G.'s, Dini, Donna captain

Y.G., Louie the God, swift and changable

Dance with the wolves, but yet, we still remainable

I rep peace, don't eat red meat, like beast

When the beef's all over, still the truth be speak

Put away the heat, teach on peace, move by feet

Walk across the hot desert, your style is weak

Number 7, old two step, that's what it do

It's the hood classic, like a barbeque

Misunderstood too, like the God son do

Saying whose who, stay focused, but do you

Even though I move different, I respect the Wu



Yeah, for my peoples in the struggle (what it do, yeah)

East to west, worldwide (come on, Fat Albert, the slick hat)

Yeah, we love it (hold on to my bracelet)



I gotta find a way like grandpops with six kids

Through the jungle, like them old heads, doing life bids

Cuz life is, both destiny and karma



I keep beefing with my baby momma

And foul jakes to, giving me drama

All my life, yo, it's nothing but problems



So I gotta find a way to solve 'em

Remove the stress from my brain

Cuz there's gotta be a better way

To maintain the hit on the block, pushing cocaine



Cracks and all that, I gotta find a way to fall back

My ribs is touching til my record label call back



So I work and focus hard and try to stay on track

With a bullshit security job and CDs in my backpack



Bags of dope up in my ass crack, earth is in the backroom

Broke vacuum, I smoke my moon

It's the Better Life Movement, coming soon, uh

Return of the Pillage



I love my babies, I love my ladies

What love is this, for money

Streets shot, police on blocks

Keep hot, I love money



Shit on my new kicks, dirt on my Yankee fitted

We in the cock pitted, it's broke windows, on the whip, man, the cops did it

Gotta find a way or else the block's gon' get it



The weapons on my coat smelling like weed smoke

Sippin' like Bacardi Gold like the fork in the road

Noodles in the pot on the stove, been walking these feet

With years, look at my wounds

In the gutter, still paying my dues



Return of the Pillage

Garbage cans, squeezing the box

Raccoons be at the door, they live with a fox

Incense be burning hard, for the smell of the socks

We on the rooftops, looking for cops

Half a gallon of milk and a box of Pops

What up, ock?



Ya'll don't see what I see

Sometimes you misunderstood me

The dramatic cross street blues

Let a lot, see my dues



Ain't no characteristics in this shit (baseball hat, baseball hat)

Straight bongo, my doola, it's the foundation