Kanye West – Two Words (Audio, Lyrics)

Throwback to Kanye West’s “Two Words” track featuring Mos Def, Freeway & The Boys Choir Of Harlem. Listen, stream, buy, read the lyrics, mp3 download the song produced by Kanye West.

Kanye West Two Words

Much has been made about the “old Kanye,” a figure that has no shortage of nostalgia-fueled admirers, to the point where its hard to pinpoint exactly what era fans are referring to anymore. For the day-ones, however, who originally grew fond of the producer during his early years on Roc-A-Fella, The College Dropout will forever be a high point in Yeezy’s career. And seeing as today is the album’s seventeenth anniversary, it feels appropriate to spotlight one of the project’s true standout cuts — the Mos Def and Freeway assisted “Two Words,” an ambitious and lyrically driven anthem.

Kanye West – Two Words (ft. Mos Def, Freeway & The Boys Choir Of Harlem) (prod. Kanye West)

Lyrics

[Chorus: Kanye West]
We in the streets, playa, get ya mail
It’s only two places you end up, either dead or in jail
Still nowhere to go
Still nowhere to go
Now throw ya hands up, hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes
Everybody, fuck that
Still nowhere to go
Still nowhere to go

[Verse 1: Mos Def]
Two words, United States, no love, no breaks
Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, black folks
Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules
Presidential scandals, everybody move
Two words, Mos Def, K. West, hot shit
Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this
Game ‘pon lock shit, gun ‘pon cock shit
We won’t stop shit, everybody move
Two words, BK, NY, Bed Stuy
Too harsh, too hungry, too many, that’s why
These streets know game, can’t ball, don’t play
Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move
Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit
Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this
Game ‘pon lock, gun ‘pon cock
We won’t stop, everybody move

[Chorus: Kanye West (w/ Harlem Boys Choir)]
Now throw ya hands up, hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes
(Throw your hands up high) Everybody, fuck that
Still nowhere to go
Still nowhere to go
And keep ya hands up, hustlers, busters, boosters
Hoes (‘Til they reach the sky), everybody, fuck that
Still nowhere to go
Still nowhere to go

[Verse 2: Kanye West]
Two words: Chi-Town, Southside, worldwide
‘Cause I rep that ’til I fuckin’ die
One neck, two chains, one waist, two gats
One wall, twenty plaques, dues paid, gimme that
I am limelight, Blueprint, five mics
Go-Getters rhyme, like, should’ve been signed twice
Most imitated, Grammy nominated
Hotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated
Barbershop playa-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it
Felt like it rained ’til the roof caved in
Two words: Chi-Town raised me, crazy
So I live by two words: “Fuck you, pay me”
Screaming, “Jesus, save me”
You know how the game be, I can’t let ’em change me
‘Cause on judgment day, you gon’ blame me
Look, God, it’s the same me
And I basically know now, we get racially profiled
‘Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho’d down
Plus, I got a whole city to hold down
From the bottom, so the top’s the only place to go now

[Chorus: Kanye West (w/ Harlem Boys Choir)]
Now throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes
(Throw your hands up high)
Oh, everybody, fuck that
Still nowhere to go
Still nowhere to go

[Verse 3: Freeway]
Two words, Freeway, two letters, AR
Turn y’all rap niggas to two words: fast runners
Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner
The heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God
Two words: no guns, break arms
Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal
Free, young boss, freshman of the Roc
With the beef in the pot Jay sent for his dogs to brawl
Forget your squad, better fend for yourself
Have you screamin’ out four words: “Send for the law,” ugh
Two words: Freeway, slightly retarded
Fuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad

[Outro: Mos Def (w/ Harlem Boys Choir)]
Red, white, blue, black (Throw your hands up)
Calm down, move back
Motherfuckers askin’ “who is that?”
You know it’s the almighty Black Jack
Mos Def, K. West
Ghetto people get this shit off ya chest
North to the south, to the east, to the west
Black Jack Johnson, it’s no contest
(High) And show it to ’em like