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"Last Days" lyrics by MMO
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[MONEY MAKIN OPERATION]


"Last Days"


[Chorus x2: M.M.O.]
We in the last days, my mind spinnin' like waves
Rise spendin' on blaze, rap's spreadin' like haze

[Triggnomm]
I reflect the greatest, Trebet's and Vegas
On fleer jets, swap begets with vets that's famous
We M.M.O., o.d. off a seedless 'dro
Zay and mo, size then sounds of four pounds
Rep the hometown, cause then only know me in Coney
Though bitches blow me and bone me worldwide with pride I spit the
Unordinary situations that vary
So much of Clinton and lifestyle of George Benson
I bump Mary N. Brown to obituaries
And every now and then, I stroll through a cemetery
I pay respects, the ghetto prophets of the projects
Visualize the logic, of one losin' the son
I say no to the gun, then I say no to the smoke
I say no to sellin' crack, then I say no to sellin' coke
I say no to hero'n, also known as dope
I say no cause I know them others just can't cope

[Chorus x2]

[Triggnomm]
I was a, baby boy, I played with dangerous toys
We love to play rough, til we felt the handcuffs
Laid up, for 12 months, got violated for blunts
Whack us for once, wigs pushed backwards to front
Survivors a sin, live a long life of pretend
Til thugs get the wind, killa's come home from doin' ten
Can't quite blend in, headin' back to the pen
Where vice is shiest, and life is like a game of dice
So I don't indulge, instead I rock a bojaw, my jerboas
Pistol patrol, spit the beautiful and the bold
Onyx then gold, when youngest ho, let it be sold
And ever sense, never hesitant, to take a residence
Who'd ever think we'd go from gangsters to gents
Aiyo, who'd ever think we'd go from playas to pimps

[Chorus x4]

[Triggnomm]
See I think big kid, so you can keep the small talk
And on the boardwalk, is where I do my dog walk
On Coney Isle, AKA Criminal Isle
Slash Medallion Isle, lay another lost and found
A real merry-go-round, when the sun go down
Get caught out in C.I., end up with M.R.I.'s
And if you really ball, we even give you a wall
Lust loots the law, where I'm from, 1-2-4
It's history in the makin', O.J. and Payton
Jesus Christ and Satan, the blatant, keep me shakin'
Reality parallel to Mickey and Mallory
Natural born, casualty, beemin' cash for a fee
See evil does it and the dead live above it
So I, spits the rugged and make sure the streets love it

[Chorus to fade]

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