Assignment 21- 40th Song Typography

Assignment #20-Typography Practice- Top 40 songs from your birth year

What that nigga want God? 
Word up, look out for the cops [Wu-Tang five finger shit] 
(Cash Rules) Word up, two for fives over here baby 
Word up, two for fives them niggaz got garbage down the way, word up 
KnowhatI'msayin? 
(Cash Rules Everything Around Me 
C.R.E.A.M. get...) 
Yeah, check this ol fly shit out 
Word up 
(Cash Rules Everything Around Me) Take you on a natural joint
(C.R.E.A.M. get the money) Here we here we go 
(dolla dolla bill y'all) Check this shit, yo! 

Verse One: Raekwon the Chef 

I grew up on the crime side, the New York Times side 
Staying alive was no jive 
At second hands, moms bounced on old men 
So then we moved to Shaolin land 
A young youth, yo rockin the gold tooth, 'Lo goose 
Only way, I begin to gee off was drug loot 
And let's start it like this son, rollin with this one 
And that one, pullin out gats for fun 
But it was just a dream for the teen, who was a fiend 
Started smokin woolies at sixteen 
And running up in gates, and doing hits for high stakes 
Making my way on fire escapes 
No question I would speed, for cracks and weed 
The combination made my eyes bleed 
No question I would flow off, and try to get the dough all 
Sticking up white boys in ball courts 
My life got no better, same damn 'Lo sweater 
Times is ruff and tuff like leather 
Figured out I went the wrong route 
So I got with a sick ass click and went all out 
Catchin keys from across seas 
Rollin in MPV's, every week we made forty G's 
Yo nigga respect mine, or anger the tech nine 
Ch-chick-POW! Move from the gate now 

Chorus: Method Man 

Cash, Rules, Everything, Around, Me 
C.R.E.A.M. 
Get the money 
Dollar, dollar bill y'all 

Verse Two: Inspector Deck 

It's been twenty-two long hard years of still strugglin 
Survival got me buggin, but I'm alive on arrival 
I peep at the shape of the streets 
And stay awake to the ways of the world cause shit is deep 
A man with a dream with plans to make C.R.E.A.M. 
Which failed; I went to jail at the age of 15 
A young buck sellin drugs and such who never had much 
Trying to get a clutch at what I could not... could not... 
The court played me short, now I face incarceration 
Pacin -- going up state's my destination 
Handcuffed in back of a bus, forty of us 
Life as a shorty shouldn't be so ruff 
But as the world turns I learned life is hell 
Living in the world no different from a cell 
Everyday I escape from Jakes givin chase, sellin base 
Smokin bones in the staircase 
Though I don't know why I chose to smoke sess 
I guess that's the time when I'm not depressed 
But I'm still depressed, and I ask what's it worth? 
Ready to give up so I seek the Old Earth 
Who explained working hard may help you maintain 
to learn to overcome the heartaches and pain 
We got stickup kids, corrupt cops, and crack rocks 
and stray shots, all on the block that stays hot 
Leave it up to me while I be living proof 
To kick the truth to the young black youth 
But shorty's running wild smokin sess drinkin beer 
And ain't trying to hear what I'm kickin in his ear 
Neglected, but now, but yo, it gots to be accepted 
That what? That life is hectic 

Outro: 

Chorus -- 4X 

Niggas gots to do what they gotta do, to get a bill 
YaknowhatI'msayin? 
Cuz we can't just get by no more 
Word up, we gotta get over, straight up and down 

Chorus -- 3X 

Cash Rules Everything Around Me 
C.R.E.A.M. 
get the money 
Dolla dolla bill y'aauhhhaaaauhhhhahhhauhhhhll, YEAH