Can't Complain Songtext

{telephone ringing}Hello... hello...Yo what up, man!?!Who the fuck is this?Who the fuck it sound like, man?What the fuck you calling so early for, man!?!What the fuck time is it!?!It's like 3 o'clock, man, thought you was coming to get me, man!?!... shit, my bad son.Please, man, come get me man, before I choke this bitch, man!Hurry up son, man it's like 90 man, let's get some hoes or something.What up, dun!?!Same ol' shit.No doubt, ain't nothing new... .Let's take a little spin, dun, word up.Yo... open my wings to a new day spread my lungsGet laced, jump in the whip, stash the gunsTwist the key, shifted to D then fleeBefore anything, get the daily dose of chokeWe got the Benzo flooded with smoke on the floatMy eye's burnin' from the dope killin' my throatLean my seat a taste, lumbar supportOn the belt doin' 90 or moredebatin' on the latest rhyme warsWhere units don't countBut your rap pay add up to large amountsGet my thrills puttin' other nigga's skills to sleepCatch chills off'a infamous beatsSwing the trees doin' one-handed u'eesBlowin' on the ouwee ?cause we can't have the medicine canoein'There go the boys to the right, no days and nights like thatAy yo dun, hold that down and turn it aroundDirty as fuck, thugs drugs and guns, d's and fatiguesT n T hopin' out of MPV'sSurprise all'a fuck out of meGot rubber Glocks pointed at meAy yo twin, what the fuck... ..[Twin]They had us layed out on the ground holdin' us downWith gats to back of our heads was goin' down?It wasn't us that held up that bitch you got.Where's the proof, man!? Let me speak to my attorney.?I know the routine, don't try to throw meI been gettin' knocked since 12 and my moms tried to scold me... but all that told me to get in more shitay yo P', (what up) you my co-d, we both get knockedWhat you did with that half'a tree? (right in my sock.)Yo, I hope these fuckin' dicks won't find the stash spotDun, you know how I get down!?!Yo I'm ready to bounceDo the 100 yard-dash and tear assIf my other half was alive we woulda got killt?Cuz dun woulda went for the guns and got illPlus I gots cracks on me, they foundt the cracks on meLooked at'em, gave'em back to meI could swore they was takin' us inThen the lady in the car said, ?..that's not them.?Picked us up, told me I could keep the drugsThye didn't give a fuck, they was only lookin' for gunsAn' you ain't gotta tell us twiceWe hopped in the car and slid offOn our way up-town for more of that funkP' lit the tree back upGot off the Tri-burrough, hit the Henry Huds'?Fuckit, let's slide through the Rutgers.?Roll the windows down cuz infamous mobb bumpers...[Prodigy]... Skip To My Lou had the crowd jumpin'Took a walk through the park frontin'Didn't even have to hurt nuttin'Man I love it, ain't nothin' like summer in New YorkHear Infamous Thoughts, then the Dream Team music startsDamn, we young black entrepeneursNew York Pricks and Dicks can't stop our flossWe like organized crime, the fuckin' MobbI'm only twenty-six playin' wit' serious cardsDead serious cash, luxurious labsLearn to balance fame with pain, you CAN'T COMPLAIN[Chinky sings X]Jus' another day livin' in the hood...Jus' another day around the way... .Feelin' good today... oh no we can't complainJus' another day... livin' in New York... .Dealin' with the jakes and the snakes... ..Feelin' good today... .we hit'em up cuz we here to stay...