That's Hard - Pete Rock, Smif-N-Wessun, Sean Price

Di dread at di control, international, control all thru di world

Nuh version we martial we nuh partial

We play nuff bwoy selections without objection!!!

Two rudeboys!!!

Tek and Steele whattup I love y’all

Styles P!!!

I ain’t tell you that I’m loco brother (Yeah!)

I keep the Tek and Steele like the Cocoa Brovaz

My niggas still Smif-N-Wessun to me (MY G!!!)

Hard headed, the God bodies couldn’t teach a lesson to me

Ahkis couldn’t reach me, neither could the church boys

I was outside with a gun movin that work boy (I was outside!)

Whattup natty head, bald head, beard men

Some niggas sizzlin us we can’t sear men

Fried to a frickaseed, and I know I’m wicked

So I don’t wear rosaries or thicker beads

No crosses, no Bible or Qu’ran, just survival on my mind

With a gun up in my palm

All spiritual nigga, I’m all lyrical

Die and come back I’m the ghost of all miracles (GHOST!)

I told them I could stare at Medusa (I could!)

They think that I’m high but I’m really tryin to stay in the future and shoot

ya!!!

Nigga!

Ghost!

G-G-G-'Gon take that shit out of somebody… somebody

And now the DA wanna chase

Cause the way I beat the case was a slap in the face

And now he lookin' like an asshole

Hotter than tobasco, try’na stop our cash flow

But I’m cooler than the other side of the pillow

They wanna give me years that end with a zero

And it’s a trap try’na get rich

You got raps and all types of bullshit

The connect slow, or the money short

Or they wanna play for the shit they bought

Better stop buying into rations

Multiply then divide into fractions

Got opportunities to go global

Heard a click and switched the chip in the mobile

Shake the feds off my coattails

Tell the little homie who the thief order a motel

Now that’s hard

A lot of wack niggas rappin' now and I know why

One cornball pop, now the rest wanna go try

All praises due to Allah, no bow tie

My whole Family stay Stoned, I’m so Sly

Cry now, cry later, no laughin'

Cocaine hills in the crib, so Aspen

No acting, Bokeem Woodbine

Blow caps back and your whole damn team die (P!)

Slave master, I sell white girl

I don’t eat ham motherfucker I might hurl

Sean Price, I got the murder flow

Rap President rule the world, Kurtis Blow

Give a fuck about nobody, I hold shotties

Upstate New York is where I throw bodies

Sean’s grimy nigga

Rape you, make you «Say It Again», Ron Isley nigga

Now that’s hard

Fuckouttahere, P!