The Cause

Yo, when we do this, we do it for real

We do it for the love, we do it for the money

For the cash, for the women, the birds

We do it for the foundation, for the people

No matter how we do it, we do it for The Cause

Yea, yo

What you in for? What you live for?

What you die for? I hope its for The Cause

..

What you work for? What you stand for?

What you strive for? I hope its for The Cause

Inspectah, rhyme beretta nine in ya sector

Wet the scenery with extreme measures

Supreme lecture, bless the heads, you dare enter

The 9th Chamber, dance with the mind bender

Surrender your thrown, there's no room for pretenders

Bystander pollyin worldwide with nine members

Distributin, my verbal sharp shootin

While I execute the deadliest moves with fine tunin

Duel of the Iron Mic bound to spark fusion

Movin at the speed of light, nice at what I'm doin

Drop it in ya brain like spice, without the five mics

Heads roll off hilltops when I strike

Sniper aim, stick you up for your price of fame

Like the flame, watch you get hot inside the game

Recognize my name, I.N.S., your highness

I rep for live sets, place ya bets, make ya threats

There's no cure, even the experts are stunned

My work is done as soon as I've just begun *echo*

Strictly, Streetlife, I never play a fan of the fame

Just build on my name, and master the slang

I'm hittin harder than a lot of artists in the game

I'm lyrically inclined, rockin just the same

Than any MC who ship platinum or gold

And only recoup to pay back what you sold

Over budget your video, got pimped like a hoe

My niggas move slo-mo like robotic clones

I'd rather be alive and paid, than dead broke

My life is like a thin line, on a tight rope

A fiend with no dope, wrong way to provoke

The man behind the scope, tucked, ready to smoke

>From the same place you from, different hood, the same slum

Mother's third seed, father's first son

Bastard child runnin wild, livin foul

Ran into some juvenile niggas in design

P.L.O. Style, sign my name on the dotten line

Your beef is mine, dangerous minds combine, we all carry nines *echo*

Hitman like Thomas Hurns, bustin while the weed burns

Shorty, sixteen, yearns for my crew to take turns

I'm a loose cannon, medically examined

Found deadly as a plague, soon to spread like famine

Splurgin, livin out the dirty version

Throwin rocks at the ghetto birds circlin the urban

Workin overtime, you notice the shine

Niggas scope mine, models won't work Capone nine

We travel in pairs, you got the front, I watch the rear

Got money on my mind this year, by all means

Put an end to your cold stairs, crush your small dreams

What you hear is the truth, fuck what you used to

I provide you with street music you can ride to

Push through, sound blastin through the sun roof

Street surfer, lurkin, thirsty for the loot

I'm in it to fuck fans and rock mic stands

I work for cash and fans, and die for the Clan