(Pump funk fo the people)      Yeah, come around my way      Come around my way   It's the Big Ill with the Al      (This is for the homies)      I got a letter from my homie Big Ill in the mail   It said, use your head, Al, stay away from jail   'Cause ah, it ain't for you and ah, it ain't for me   I tell you now it ain't the place you wanna be      So I keep to myself nowadays   Lay back, recline and get paid from my phrase   Sometimes I get caught in a deep thought   As I drink a quart of the cold old dog that I bought      The more I drink, the more I start to think of him   Locked up in the clink, will he sink or swim?   I'm what they call the rap rebel Madball   I'm nice with the dice, watch 'em bounce off the wall      I come to your party, bounce through with my crew   We pouring out some brew for some homies that we knew   I'm searching for my homie but he can't be found   I wanna give him a pound and let him know that he's down      Where the homies?   Creeping through the hood   Where my homies?   Come around my way, aiyo up to no good      (Where my homies?)   Where they at, where they at?   (Creeping through the neighborhood)   (For all those good times we had together)   (This song is for the homies, this is for the homies)      Well, it's Big Ill, the Babbling Bum, the bum that's babbling   Don't try to step to this, my fist be traveling   Unravelling, land on the gravel when you fall   Yes, yes, y'all, I travel through the mess hall      Now where my homie, I'm by my lonely   I shoulda listened to what my mama told me   But it's too late, I'm upstate pumping weight 'cause I'm frail   What you gonna do when you get out of jail?      Bust a cap, bust a cap, put that ass on the map   Here's a slap in the grill 'cause you tried to front on Ill   And I'm locked down, how the Glock sound?   That's what you get for trying to blow up the spot, clown      That's the ability, load up the artillery   Your body I'll deliver to the river, gee   Remember me with the   (Crooklyn residency)      Now you can take me out of Brooklyn   But you can't take Brooklyn out of me   That's how it be, gee      Raise your forties for the missing homies   For all those good times we had together   This song is for our homies   This is for the homies, yeah      Well, it's the I to the l to the I   Straight out the cell with Al, from the fiery pits of hell   (Aiyo, what's up Big Ill, how you doing?)   Aiyo, what's up Al Skratch, now can we woo-woo-woo?   (Come around my way)      That's what I'm about to do   (Come around my way)   Aiyo, I wanna kick it with your crew   (Now 1-2 in the project halls with the Madballs)   (Everyday all day, on 56 Broadway)      But I'm Big Ill coming straight out the pen   B to the K to the L to the Y to the N, bo   (Let off a round, how that sound?)   (Ain't nothing going down without the Brooklyn and the Uptown)      Yeah, so where my homies at?   (They're over here)   Now do they got my back, do they got my back?   (Yeah)      Don't creep through my hood   In the wrong way   (This is for my homies)   Now let the song play      Shipped upstate   Aiyo, it's too late