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10/31/2000 |
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. . .
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* words echo during pauses (... are long pauses .. are short pauses)
[Jay-Z]
It's the Dynasty niggaz... as promised...
The world's most infamous...
Roc-A-Fella Records...
This is Roc La Familia...
It's Young Hova... Beanie Sigel... Memphis Bleek... Amil-lion...
It's the Dynasty niggaz... 2000 to infinity...
This is ghetto to ghetto.. gutter to gutter..
Street corner to street corner.. project to project..
Worldwide... walk with us niggaz...
Hoffa... Dash... it's the Dynasty niggaz
Check it out...
Uhh... walk with me... talk to me... yo..
The theme song to +The Sopranos+
plays in the key of life on my, mental piano
Got a strange way of seein life like
I'm Stevie Wonder with, beads under the doo-rag
Intuition is there even when my vision's impaired, yeah
Knowin I can go, just switchin a spare
On the highway of life, nigga it's sharp in my sight
Oh! Keen senses ever since I was a, teen on the benches
everytime somebody like Enus was mentioned
I would turn green, me, bein in the trenches
Him, livin adventureous not worryin about expenditures
I'm bravin temperatures below zero, no hero
No father figure, you gotta pardon a nigga
But I'm starvin my niggaz, and the weight loss in my figure
is startin to darken my heart, bout to get to my liver
Watch it my niggaz, I'm tryin to be calm but I'm gon' get richer
through any means, with that thing that Malcolm palmed in the picture
Never read the Qu'ran or Islamic scriptures
Only psalms I read was on the arms of my niggaz
Tattooed so I carry on like I'm non-religious
Clap whoever stand between Shawn and figures
Niggaz, say it's the dawn/Don but I'm superstitious
Shit is as dark as it's been, nothin is goin as you predicted
I move with biscuits, stop the harder niggaz actin too suspicious
This is, food for thought, you do the dishes
. . .
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featuring Beanie Sigel, Memphis Bleek
[Jay-Z]
Uhh, uhh, uhh, let's go
Uhh, bounce, uhh, bounce
Uhh, bounce, uhh..
Shit relax your mind, let your conscience be free
You're now rollin with them thugs from the R-O-C
Sigel Sigel in the house
[Beanie Sigel]
Uh-huh, sick bastard
Get your wig pushed back by the wig push-backer
[Jay-Z]
Uhh, uhh, Memph Bleek in the house
[Memphis Bleek]
Still here, never left
Still bust, I'm all that, still puff, beeeitch!
[Jay-Z]
Uh, uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, uhh
Young Hova in the house.. Jigga! Yeah
Crist' sipper, six dipper, wrist splitter nigga!
.. hold up love
Everytime you see Jigga Man I'm rollin on dubs
Don't forget about them blades shit choppin it up
It's the motherfuckin Roc bitch, who hotter than us?
Jay-Hov, bout to change my name to Jay Peso
But in the meantime, call me William H. though
On the platinum Yamaha, got the engine gunnin
Throwin it up like liquor on an empty stomach
{*cycle whizzes by*} Y'all don't hear nuttin?
Who that, Mac?
[Beanie Sigel]
Nah dawg, that's M. Bleek comin
[Memphis Bleek]
Who the FLUCK, want, what?
Catch Bleek in South Beach out of the reach of the police
Gat on my lap (yeah) bitch on my back (holla)
Yak in my pocket, smokin the sticky chocolate (OO-WEE!)
Holla if you want drama with
[Jay-Z]
The Dynasty; Amil, Bleek, Jigga and.. Sigel
[Beanie Sigel]
Desert Eagle dawg, who else but me?
Roc ears, Roc-Wears, bandannas and white tees
Me without a gun dawg, unlikely
You know I keep the heat right under the wifebeat'
Three-X-T, I'm Lincoln now, you can't see the pound
Got a little gut so gat sit tucked (fuck)
I run wild, gun high, L.A. style
Bang the roscoe to the sunrise, plus I stay dumb high
Whether block shit or rock shit
Club shit or drug shit, I pop shit I got shit
Get Sig' any track I'ma spit the talk to it
Down South all bounce Crips gon' walk to it
Get a ounce, get a woods, everybody spark to it
Every dawg, every Blood in the hood, bark to it
Get the ounce, get the woods, everybody spark to it
We can smoke in here, put the choke in the air
[singer]
Don't change the game for these folks
Change the game like we supposed
[Jay-Z]
Sigel Sigel in the house
[Beanie Sigel]
Uh-huh, sick bastard
Get your wig pushed back by the wig push-backer
[singer]
Don't change the game for these folks
Change the game like we supposed
[Jay-Z]
Memph Bleek in the house
[Memphis Bleek]
Still here, never left
Still bust, I'm all that, still puff, beeeitch!
[singer]
Don't change the game for these folks
Change the game like we supposed
[Jay-Z]
Young Hova in the house.. Jigga!
Crist' sipper, six dipper, wrist splitter nigga!
I wear more bling to The Source and Soul Train's
More chains than rings, niggaz won't do a thing
I bangs the four-four in plain, daylight I'm deranged
Spray right at your brain; by the way this is Hov'
One shot Dillinger, one shot killin ya
It's only one Roc La Familia
Sigel lock Philly up, Brooklyn is me
Matter of fact, the East coast fuck took it from me
Fourth album still Jay still spittin that real shit
Volume 3 still sold more records than Will Smith
Can't call this a comeback, I run rap, the fuck is y'all sayin?
Five million I done that, and I come back, to do it again (uh-huh)
Ex-sinner, Grammy award winner
Ballin repeatedly, highlights on Sportscenter
Please repeat after me - there's only one rule
I WILL NOT, LOSE!
. . .
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Let's go
Hov!
Uh huh, Hov'
You, are, not, ready
Hov', unstoppable, Dynasty, young Hova
I'm a hustler baby [I'm a hustler]
I just want you to know [Wanna let you know]
It aint where I been [It aint where I been]
But where I'm bout to go [Top of the world!]
Now I just wanna love you [just wanna love you]
But be who I am [you know you love me]
And with all this cash [mo' money, mo' problems]
You'll forget your man
Now give it to me
Gimme that funk, that sweet, that nasty, that gushi stuff
But don't bullshit me
C'mon, gimme that funk, that sweet, that nasty, that gushi stuff
[Verse 1]
When the Remi's in the system, ain't no tellin
Will I fuck 'em will I diss 'em, that's what they be yellin
I'm a pimp by blood, not relation
Y'all be chasin, I replace them, huh?
Drunk off Crist', mami on E
Can't keep her little model hands off me
Both in the club, high, singing off key
*And I wish I never met her at all...*
It gets better, ordered another round
It's, about, to go, down
Got six model chicks, six bottles of Crist'
Four Belvederes, got weed everywhere
What do you say, me, you and your Clovey glasses
Go somewhere private where we can discuss fashion
Like, Prada blouse, Gucci bra
Filth marked jeans, take that off
Give it to me
Gimme that funk, that sweet, that nasty, that gushi stuff
But don't bullshit me
C'mon, gimme that funk, that sweet, that nasty, that gushi stuff
I said give it to me
Gimme that funk, that sweet, that nasty, that gushi stuff
But don't bullshit me
Mama, gimme that funk, that sweet, that nasty, that gushi stuff
[Verse 2]
Yeah, save the narrative, you savin it for marriage
Let's keep it real ma, you savin it for karats
You wanna see how far I'ma go
How, much I'ma spend but you already know
Zip, zero, stingy with dinero
Might buy you Crist', but that about it
Might light your wrist, but that about it
Fuck it, I might wife you and buy you nice whips
Ma, but you really gotta ride nice dick
Know how to work your hips and your head's priceless
Profess you love the Hov', and I'll never let you down
Get you bling like the Neptune sound
Okay, hot Hov', too hot to hold
Ladies love me long time like 2Pac's soul
Only way to roll, Jigga and two ladies
I'm too cold, Motorola, two way page me, c'mon
Give it to me
Gimme that funk, that sweet, that nasty, that gushi stuff
But don't bullshit me
C'mon, gimme that funk, that sweet, that nasty, that gushi stuff
I said give it to me
Gimme that funk, that sweet, that nasty, that gushi stuff
But don't bullshit me
Mama, gimme that funk, that sweet, that nasty, that gushi stuff
I'm a hustler baby [uh, Hov']
I just want you to know [Hov']
It aint where I been
But where I'm bout to go [Hov', Hov']
Now I just wanna love you [young Hova]
But be who I am [know you love me]
And with all this cash [mo' money, mo' problems]
You'll forget your man
[Verse 3]
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Same song, I'm back, been around the world
Ro-mancing girls that dance with girls
From, Club Cheetah, to Club Amnesia
The Venus in L.A., Bubblin' in Dublin
Can't deny me, why would you want to
You need me, why don't you try me
Baby you want to, believe me, Hov'!
Give it to me
Gimme that funk, that sweet, that nasty, that gushi stuff
But don't bullshit me
C'mon, gimme that funk, that sweet, that nasty, that gushi stuff
I said give it to me
. . .
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[Jay-Z]
Is he a Blood, is he Crip?
Is he that, is he this?
Did he do it? Y'know, ehh
Look..
If I shoot you, I'm brainless
Different toilet, same shit, and I'm sick of explainin this
I'm waitin on arraignment, my nigga is the plantiff
Yeah, I know what you thinkin - fucked up ain't it?
I shoulda known better, and I planned to
but dog they be takin me out of my zone like a nigga with a handle
I sat back and watched it, put the gats back in the closet
I tried to tie my hands like an Iraqi hostage
Let niggaz take shots at me, no response
I just - flip and, pop my collar like the Fonz
You give a nigga a foot he'll take you one step beyond
He'll try to play you twice, the third time is the charm
You wanna conversate with the writer of the Qu'ran
or Old Testament, don't test him then
I know what y'all thinkin dick, pause
Your future's my past, I've been here before
I know when you're schemin, I feel when you plottin
I got, mental vision, intuition
I know where you goin I read your mind's navigational system
Everybody whisperin - pst pst pst ss perspirin
[Chorus]
When the, streets is talkin, niggaz is gossipin
Bitches all in your shit, what's the cause of it?
I need to know.. geah geah
Yeah yeah yeah, yeah..
[Jay-Z]
You see me with a bodyguard that means police is watchin
And I only use his waist to keep my glock in
But when shit goes down you know who's doin the poppin
And if you don't know, guess who's doin the droppin
S dot again, y'all got him in a bad mood
Bad move; that's bad news
How many times have I got to prove?
How many loved ones have you got to lose
before you realize that it's probably true?
Whatever Jigga say, Jigga probably do
Shit I paid my dues, I made the news
I came in the door for dolo, blazed the crews
And the streets say Jigga can't go back home
You know when I heard that? When I was back home
I'm comfortable dog, Brooklyn to Rome
On any Martin Luther, don't part with your future
Don't ever question if I got the heart to shoot ya
The answer is simply too dark for the user
And as a snot-nose they said that he got flows
But will he be able to drop those before the cops close in?
'Fore the shots froze him, and he's dead and gone
from what the block has spoken, my God
Everybody stressin, who's his baby's moms?
Who he got pregnant, let me tell you, ahh...
[Chorus]
When the, streets is talkin, niggaz is gossipin
Bitches all in your shit, what's the cause of it?
I need to know.. chicka-uh-ah, ah-chk-ah-uh-ah
Chicka-ch-ah, chk-ah-ah-ah
When the, streets is talkin, niggaz is gossipin
Bitches all in your shit, what's the cause of it?
I need to know.. gi-gi-gi, geah yeah uh, yeah yeah uh
Yeah, yo, yo
[Jay-Z]
I seen my first murder in the hall, if you must know
I lost my pops when I was eleven mmm twelve years old
He's probably somewhere where the liquor is takin it's toll
but I ain't mad at you dad, holla at your lad
I grew up pushin snowflake to niggaz that was pro-base
The stress'll take a young nigga, give him a old face
All I did was smoke joke, think and drink
Copped 'caine and complained, front row watch game
I seen niggaz before me, with a chance to write they own script
slip up and change the story
I seen young niggaz go out in a blaze of glory
before reachin puberty, scared a nigga truthfully
I took trips with so much shit in the whip
that if the cops pulled us over the dog'd get sick, SNIFF
Smell me nigga? The real me nigga, minus the rumors
Holla if you feel me nigga
[Beanie Sigel]
The streets is not only watchin but they talkin now?
Shit they got me circlin the block before I'm parkin now
Don't get it twisted, I ain't bitchin, I'm just cautious now
So, under the park the extra cartridge now
Hit his click Sig' up you fell at it you're dense
I get word to the street like Bell Atlantic express
I feel the vibes and I hear the rumors
But fuck it, I'm still alive and I'm still ?? ?? Allah
Niggaz wanna press me, put my back to the wall
But pressure bust pipes I know, I spat it to y'all
To know me is to love me, you see me, can't be me, hate this
Fuck you I got guns like Neo in +Matrix+
Cross the Family, think Mac's sweet like payroll
or soft like Play-Doh get knocked off like Fredo
Corleone, they find you with a hole in your dome
I roll with niggaz that'll follow you and go to your home
Thought you ball, but nigga you fall to my defense
Catch you while you reachin, clip you then I cross you then I'm leavin
Apply full court pressure
like four-four ?? get you out of here, pull pressure
to the trigger, bullets fly in three's
You forever rest under bullshit, dirt lies and leaves
I do bullshit, dirt, tell lies then leave
Look in my eyes, realize it's Beans
Niggaz wanna despise the team; till I play head coach
and straight up, divide they team
Trade they man for some pies and a couple of things
. . .
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f/ Beanie Sigel, Scarface
[Jay-Z]
Geah.. whassup?
Where's all my street niggaz, project niggaz
Real niggaz, worldwide
Let's reflect.. e'rybody got a story
We all ghetto B - here's mine
Geah
See I was -- born in sewage, born to make bomb music
Flow tight like I was born Jewish
Used the streets as a conduit - I kept arms
38 longs inside my mom's Buick
At any given moment Shawn could lose it, be on the news
Iron cuffs - arms through it; or stuffed with embalmin fluid
Shit, I'm goin through it - mom dukes too
Tears streamin down her pretty face, she got her palms to it
My life is gettin too wild
I need to bring some sort kinda calm to it
Bout to lose it; voices screamin "Don't do it!"
It's like '93, '94, bout the year
that Big and Mag dropped; and "Illmatic" rocked
outta every rag drop, and the West had it locked
Everybody doin 'em, I'm still scratchin on the block
like "Damn; I'ma be a failure"
Surrounded by thugs, drugs, and drug - paraphenalia
Cops courts, and their thoughts is to derail us
Three time felons in shorts with jealous thoughts
Tryin figure where your mail is, guesstimate the weight you sellin
So they can send shots straight to your melon; wait!
It gets worse, baby momma water burst
Baby came out stillborn, still I gotta move on
Though my heart still torn, life gone from her womb
Don't worry, if it was meant to be, it'll be -- soon
[Chorus: Jay-Z]
This can't be life, this can't be love
This can't be right, there's gotta be more, this can't be us
This can't be life, this can't be love
This can't be right, there's gotta be more, this can't be us
[Beanie Sigel]
Chill dog
Second oldest born, from Michelle Brown my mother
Hell bound, grew with two sisters and one brother
Pop wasn't around, so many stories that's another
I'm thinkin damn; how my older sister gon' make me tougher
When steel sharpens steel, I'ma keep it real
I'm tired of tryin to hide my pain behind the syrups and pills
Dead to the world, stretched out like a corpse for real
Y'all niggaz thinkin what y'all readin in The Source is real
What my life like, you lookin at the source, it's real
What your life like? Mine dog, of course it's real
Passin judgment, you niggaz second-guessin Beans
Cause you don't eat swine don't make you Amin
Dog you know a couple suras, out the Qur'an
I guess you all on your din and I ain't on mine
Stop that Akki, 'fore I send shots though your body
Make 'em feel feel hell on earth before Allah drop thee
I feel the line's drawn here, nuttin more can stop me
Till them feds pick me up, or them boys pop me
There's only three things that make Mac not act like Beans
Amatullah Tisha, Po Aldin, Samir Amin
My seeds dog, gotta teach 'em that before I leave dog
Shit I know that I'ma see 'em when I leave dog
I come back in the afterlife
Like fuck it I done touched hell twice; what's the meanin?
[Chorus]
[Scarface]
Yeah.. uhh..
Now as I walk into the studio, to do this with Jig'
I got a phone call from one of my nigs
Said my homeboy Reek, he just lost one of his kids
And when I heard that I just broke into tears
And see in the second hand; you don't really know how this is
But when it hits that close to home you feel the pain at the crib
So I called mine, and saddened my wife with the bad news
Now we both depressed, countin our blessings cause Brad's two
Prayin for young souls to laugh atlife through the stars
Lovin your kids just like you was ours
And I'm hurtin for you dog; but ain't nobody pain is like yours
I just know that heaven'll open these doors
And ain't no bright side to losin lifel; but you can view it like this
God's got open hands homey, he in the midst.. of good company
Who loves all and hates not one
And one day you gon' be wit your son
I could've rapped about my hard times on this song
But heaven knows I woulda been wrong
I wouldn'ta been right, it wouldn'ta been love
It wouldn'ta been life, it wouldn'ta been us
This can't be life
[Chorus]
[Jay-Z]
This can't be life..
. . .
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featuring Memphis Bleek, Snoop Dogg
[Jay-Z]
Sup ma? You want to roll with us, y'knowhatI'msayin?
It's good, it's love, it's all love
We got cases of Belvedere, we gon' play truth or dare
We gon' really get to know one another
All you gotta do is put your hair down, get your mind right
Knahmean? I'm here for you, yo
Relax yourself, let your conscience be free
You now rollin with them thugs from the R-O-C
Ain't no place on the planet that you'd rather be
but in the blue flame, bitch you're new to the game
Cross over to the Roc, make yourself hot
The topic of discussion in every nail shop
It's a secret society, all we ask is trust
and within a week, watch your arm freeze up
Brassiere get right, A to a D cup
Weave get tight, pedicure your feet up
Ears get iced, gear get spiced
From hoodrat to superstar, there's your life
Fuck with Hova, he can take you out of your hell
Say bye to Reebok, say hi to Chanel
Say hi to Gucci, Prada as well
Take a look in the mirror, be proud of yourself
[Chorus w/ singer]
[J] Get your mind right mami, get your mind right
You gotta play your part when you're rollin with the R-O-C
[J] Get your mind right mami, get your mind right
You gotta know what it takes to be down with a nigga like me
[J] Get your mind right mami, get your mind right
I need a gangsta girl, who can ride in my passenger seat
[J] Get your mind right mami, get your mind right
And I need gangsta girls, for my gangsta family
[Memphis Bleek]
Yo, I'm young Memphis, used to play the apprentice
Now I'm like the teacher, c'mere, let me teach ya
how to play them benches, hold this work in your dentures
How to play it cool when police come to pinch us
Relax mami let the ?? flow
Inhale the 'dro, exhale it slow
I could teach you how to roll, teach you bout fly kicks
Teach you how to keep your nose up out of my shit
When the beeper goes off, please don't reach
like you put a ring or spend cheese on Bleek
Get your mind right baby, goin through mine crazy
When I'm in the shower, *69 me crazy
Track my last call, contact my broad
with a bitch ?? had physical contact in the mall
You got issues {*inhales*} problems you need to iron out
I will, holla, for now you on time out
[Chorus w/ singer and Snoop]
You gotta play your part when you're rollin with the R-O-C
[S] C'mon little mama, c'mon
You gotta know what it takes to be down with a nigga like me
[J] Get your mind right mami, get your mind right
[S] C'mon little mama, c'mon
I need a gangsta girl, who can ride in my passenger seat
[J] Get your mind right mami, get your mind right
[S] C'mon baby girl, c'mon
And I need gangsta girls, for my gangsta family
[J] Get your mind right mami, get your mind right
[S] C'mon little mama, c'mon
[Snoop Dogg]
P-I-M-P-ology
I played you and you paid me
Believe me when I tell you girl I know you a freak
for fuckin with me, that ain't all you can be
Just put your mind to it you can go real far
I know times gettin hard on the boulevard
They say, pimpin is dead; man, pimpin ain't dead
These hoes just scared and they blind tryin and dyin to be lead
But who's to lead 'em? Talk shit to 'em and beat 'em
Get they mind right and feed 'em
Now I don't need 'em (uh uh) but I can do that there
Put on a three-piece suit and Shirley Temple my hair
so I can, feel like a player when I walk in the place
Got yo' bitch all on my line and now she up in my face
Is this yo' bitch is that yo' bitch cause if she's not she mine
She fallin fo' a nigga and I ain't even dropped a line
[Chorus w/ Snoop]
Get out my limelight bitch and get your mind right
C'mon little mama, c'mon
Get your mind right bitch, get your mind right
C'mon baby girl, c'mon, c'mon
You gotta play your part when you're rollin with the R-O-C
[J] Get your mind right mami, get your mind right
You gotta know what it takes to be down with a nigga like me
[J] Get your mind right ma, get your mind right
I need a gangsta girl, who can ride in my passenger seat
[J] Got ta get your mind right baby, get your mind right
And I need gangsta girls for my gangsta family
[Jay-Z]
Get your mind right mami, get your mind right
Get your mind right ma, get your mind right huh?
. . .
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f/ Beanie Sigel, DJ Clue
[Clue] Yeah.. DJ Clue! A/K/A/, William, M. Holla..
with William H. Holla
[Jay-Z] The world's most infamous
[Clue] The Holla family nigga
[Jay-Z] Roc-A-Fella Records, c'mon
[Clue] Dynasty! New Jay-Z! Beanie Sigel!
Stick to the script!
[Jay-Z] We live money over bitches nigga stick to the script
[Clue] Remember where you heard it first.. stupid!
[Jay-Z] Cop, flip, we re-up; get back to the shift
Money over bitches nigga stick to the script
[Clue] D.. J.. CLUE!
[Jay-Z]
YO, they call me William H. (H!) the all-time great (GREAT!)
I fuck the most hoes out of New York State (STATE!)
I rock my jewels (JEWELS) I'm not a fool (FOOL!)
In the small of my back I got this big-ass tool (Ha hah!)
When I'm skatin through the city and I stop and kick it
Be the most asked question - how I got them digits?
I say I stay on my grind, never stop for bitches
Never talk like a mom, I gotta watch you snitches
And I stick to the script, that's my advice so life
Eat nigga, let it stick to your ribs
I seen niggaz go from handlin birds to ramblin words
to the man, seen a Sammy the Bull emerge on the stand
And it was all good just a week ago
We lost Todd E., but we still eatin though
For like a hundred weeks nigga, we gon' run the streets
til we reach Malik or the date of E's release
Peep Hova in a Jeep Rover, passin reefer over
to this freak, breathe mami this is good weed mami
Three, hymies under the belt, three extra clip
We aim, we shoot; y'all shoot aim, we stick to the script
C'mon!
[Chorus: Jay-Z]
Money over bitches nigga stick to the script
We cop, we flip, we re-up; get back on our shift
Money over bitches nigga stick to the script
{*scratch* "You can bullshit with rap if you want, muh'fuckers"}
Money over bitches nigga stick to the script
We cop, we flip, we re-up; get back on our shift
Money over bitches nigga stick to the script
{*scratch* "You in the streets nigga, make your moves"}
{*scratch* "Y'all niggaz truly ain't ready for this dynasty thing"}
[Beanie Sigel]
Geah, uh-huh
Yeah, money over bitches nigga
{*scratch* "This Philly cat ba.. back at it"}
Stick to the script, yo
Aiyyo they don't call me Mac for nuttin
I don't give a whore jack, man they all say that Mac be frontin
But if you can't take a case bitch and take it to the chin
take the heat, beat your feet bitch, skate in the wind
Don't snitch, we can blow dough, make it again
You can be my hoe bitch, I can't make you my friend
because - friends depend on friends, not Bean Sigel's shit
I don't need you; let welfare feed you
Mac'll, stick to the script, and stick to the flip
I got a sick whip game, water stick to the bricks
I got a sick flip game, order gettin and shit
I got a strict strip, flip 'caine, get it in shifts
Bitch, you can't get at me, shit I get at you
only in the physical, I tell you like Mystikal
"Shake that ass (yeah) watch yourself
(Yeah) show me what you workin with but wash yourself"
Fuck a dirty bitch (yeah) man I roll with a sturdy click
that'll murder shit, empty clips you never heard a spit
Slide a bitch what? Slide a bitch shit
Slide a bitch dick, then I slide out a bitch shit
Ain't no time to stick around and play step pops
Shit I'm tryin to get down, cop and upset blocks
Low price, quick flip, 2-8-K quick
Shit don't go right, 2 AK's spit - stick to the script nigga
[Chorus]
Money over bitches nigga stick to the script
We cop, we flip, we re-up; get back on our shift
Money over bitches nigga stick to the script
..
Money over bitches nigga stick to the script
We cop, we flip, we re-up; get back on our shift
Money over bitches nigga stick to the script
Y'all get knocked, y'all turn bitch
We get knocked, we never snitch, c'mon
. . .
|
|
featuring Amil, Beanie Sigel, Memphis Bleek
[Jay-Z]
Told y'all... Dynasty... Roc-A-Fella Records, you heard me?
Unstoppable, niggaz! Uhh
Memph Bleek.. Amil-lion.. Sigel Sigel ya heard?
It's a Dynasty! Who do you believe?
Jigga Man, mo' better, mo' cheddar
Foes knock the man off your Polo sweater
Roll with the R-O-C, A-Fella
Remember me? The teachers used to fail us
Now it's mo' scrilla, hoe killers
Fo'-wheelers, we - gorillas
Oh please feel us - we heat holders
Fightin? Listen boy, Roy Jones couldn't still us
The plot thickens, the block clickin
We got the game tied up, stop trippin
Jigga Man huh? Sigel Sigel y'all
Memph Bleek what? Amil-lion, uhh
Cat be him, El Cap-i-tan
The fire I spit burn down Happyland
Social Club, we unapproachable thugs
Non-social, gone postal
Great aim, harm the arm close to your toast
like a Don's supposed to, Shawn
I thought I told you, these ain't just vocals
Don't make me take it to the old school
I put holes through your hoes too
through your clothes to the foes to the nigga close to you
Fuck it; Jigga Man huh? Sigel Sigel y'all
Amil-lion what? Memph Bleek..
[Memphis Bleek]
Y'all dudes don't - get it, come widdit
Fifth loaded with slugs that'll rest in your fitted
It's M dot E-M, the Roc be them
Got the mamis sayin look, who can stop be them?
You wan' press your dumb luck, get blam blam-ed up
I crush your larynx, you talk 'bout us nigga
No obituary, I get it critical
You know Memph'll hit the pall bearer liftin you
When I cock the plastic, make 'em drop the casket
When it's hot, I'm blastin, it's the Roc, you bastards
Jigga Man what? Amil-lion yeah
Memph Bleek huh? Sigel Sigel c'mon
Spit acid, c'mon
Witcha bullshit smash hit, get your bullshit smashed in
Niggaz wanna front and get jumped
Bet the ruger give your right side a nice-sized lump
Nigga, we are, the supreme squad
You can dream hard but reality is
we push the dream cars, fuck the queen broads
puff the green raw, we as real as it get
We the R-O-C dot A dot Fellas
Bitches don't talk to us, the hoes they e-mail us
Nigga, Jigga Man what? Memph Bleek huh?
Amil-lion yeah, Sigel Sigel rap
[Beanie Sigel]
R (dot) O (dot) C (dot) stop
From tower to mind pop, I move out stop
Shower your mind block, move out with glocks
Raw to the cook, look, move out them blocks
Take it to the bucks who be grindin it up
Usually take it to the dubs so they diamond it up
Competition, linin 'em up
Forty-five ACP, let me squeeze lime 'em up
You want, drama what? Well silence it up
Since a young buck, violent as fuck
Wettin me dog, the high will do it; I used to wild off embalmin fluid
I send niggaz to the trauma unit
Forty-five or the nine'll do it
I fuck around and have your moms go through it - I'm a beast!
Shit, niggaz always wanna ye shit, then they wanna cease shit
when they motherfuckin peeps hit
But I don't cease nuttin, I decease som'un
I fuck around and have you sleepin underneath som'un
Jigga Man what? Sigel Sigel y'all
Memph Bleek uh, Amil-lion right
[Amil]
Go to the A to the M-I, semi(??)ness
So then it's M-I(??), leave niggaz faced with a dilemmi
Am I, gon' run or stay, can I
get away no you can't can't I surrendi?
And I, lady fly, the Mercedes high
In my way through the tunnel like Lady Di
[Jay-Z]
Jigga Man huh? Sigel Sigel y'all
. . .
|
|
f/ R. Kelly
[Jay-Z]
I thought this was America people!
Uhh, yeah, guilty until proven innocent huh?
That's how we workin huh? Okay
Before me there was many; after me there will be none
I am the one
Uh-huh, okay, I see how we playin
Yeah, I get it down - anxiously the public can't wait
Niggaz had to have it way before it's release date
Jigga get irate, press get it fucked up
Took me one point eight but I had to get it straight
Get the CD, twelve inch vinyl, get the tape
Jigga give out food for thought dog, get a plate
I get it down, get it krunk when I get in the state of mind
that what's mine is mine, nobody get to take
I don't bend, break, fold, scratch, go down
My mental rolodex see these words? I just don't know
I know stress, drama, niggaz upsettin my mama
Arrested, put in the lineup, tryin to put dents in my armor
But I'm a survivor, plus I'm liver than most
Out on bail, fifty thou', still ridin with toast
I ain't tryin to collide with folk,
but I don't want folk takin Jigga for joke
I guess you niggaz just woke - good morning!
[Chorus - R. Kelly]
You can't touch me, no you can't touch me
Jigga, Kelly, not guilty
Try to charge me but I'm not guilty
I got, all, my mamis
I've got all of my mamis
Tell me, what you, want from me
Tell me.. what y'all want from me?
I'm not guilty
[Jay-Z]
I see how you comin at me now, I'm cool
I'm not the snitch I don't go to the cops to get rich
.. I go to the block and pitch
I go with the glock and click, I go with the pop I'm sick
I go with you hard; I ain't gon' stop for shit
Look in my eyes dog, right in my pupils
If I'm your rival, why would I have to do you?
Press try to throw dirt on my name, disturbin my game
Seemed happy when they heard he was arraigned, glad he's indichted
Got big money, big lawyers to fight it
Just like Cochran, cocksuckers you never see me boxed in
Y'all all knnow it, Jigga's a fighter
Plus I'm clausterphobic, back on the streets before you know it
And my word niggaz, I heard you niggaz
I'm address each and every one of you cocksuckers
Fuck the white press, the block love us, hip-hop forever
B.I.G. is here, the soul of Tupac hovers - above us
[Chorus - R. Kelly]
You can't touch me, no you can't touch me
Jigga, Kelly, not guilty
Try to charge me but I'm not guilty
I got, all, my mamis
I've got all of my mamis
Tell me, what you, want from me
Tell me.. (I am the one)
What you want from me? Not guilty
[Jay-Z]
Uhh, okay, you on my radar, I got you too bitch
Got lame bitches tryin to fuck with my case
Same lame bitch I bust in her face
Honey just mad I got her fuckin replaced
Plus a birthday pass without me even touchin my safe
But I ain't gon' lie, the head was sick
But what we need to do, is put that mouth on a betta bitch
You heart the rhetorhic, Jigga hit me over the head
with a champagne bottle at the bar, can he buy me a car?
Naw, how do y'all equate your pain
Would it all go away if I bought you a Range?
I got one or two of those, nothin gon' change
For nothin else, you gotta live with yourself
Try and lie on Hov' cause I ride on the road
in what, most would describe as a Rolls
NO, that's that Continental T
The only car that fit intercontinental me, not guilty
[Chorus - R. Kelly]
You can't touch me, no you can't touch me
Jigga, Kelly, not guilty
And you wanna charge me, when I'm not guilty
I got, all, my mamis
(I am the one) I've got all of my mamis
Tell me, what you, want from me
Tell me.. what you want from me?
Not guilty
[Jay-Z]
I, am, the, one
[R] Y'all, cats, can't touch me
[R. Kelly]
So you can't touch me nigga, you can't touch me
Jigga, Kelly, not guilty
Said Jigga, Kelly, not guilty
I got, all, my mamis
And I got, all my, mamis
Tell me, what you, want from me
I don't, know why, y'all can't see that
Y'all, cats, can't touch me
Y'all, dudes, can't touch me
Jigga, Kelly, not guilty
Jigga, Kelly, not guilty
I got, all, my mamis
I got, all my, mamis
Tell me, what you, want from me
So tell me, what you, want from me
Y'all, cats, can't touch me
Y'all, niggaz, can't touch me
Jigga, Kelly, not guilty
Jigga, Kelly, not guilty
I got, all, my mamis
And I got, all my, mamis
Tell me, what you, want from me
So tell me, what you, want from me
Y'all, cats, can't touch me
Jigga, Kelly, not guilty
I got, all, my mamis
Tell me, what you, want from me
Y'all, cats, can't touch me
. . .
|
|
featuring Beanie Sigel, Memphis Bleek
[Jay-Z]
Yeh, it's that knock right here
You fuck around not have the right speakers in your system
your shit be soundin like this {*funny sounds*}
Big thangs, thick chains, ain't shit changed
Get brain in the four-dot-six Range
Shit mayn, switch lanes
Every town I hit you switch lames, bitch flip big 'caine
I givin 'em whiplash when I'm whippin the whip fast
Which one? Pick one nigga, I got a six stashed
Continental T's, no tense like I got a thick stab
Big cigar, old money, when I drop it it's so funny
Six-four switches, slam doors on 6's
Big trucks when I wanna fuck and it's time to get ass
I turn automobiles to hotels on wheels
I got money for a room it's just the fact that I'm trill
Bitches love when I cruise up the boulevard
They have contests to guess which car I'ma pull out the yard
They know I, come for dolo and pull off with a broad
Spin away, spend a day tryin to pull menage
Just Mac (??) God, the sunlight hit the ice it's flawless
Run lights like I'm the king of New York, I'm lawless
Bitches, they wanna hang like plaques in the office
Cause I push black Porsches, Benz's and Jaguars-es
When the rag's off it, gat on my lap, I'm that cautious
Never trust grimy-ass New Yorkers
'Specially when you're sittin on 20's they get nauseous
Standin in the Azure with white air forces
[Chorus: sung]
You can catch me in the parkin lot
Hollerin at bitches, parkin lot pimpin'
Everyday we be off the chains
Workin with grain, sittin on them thangs
Tryin to find out where dem dollars at (dollars at)
So when I holla at you, holla back (holla back)
Everyday we be off the chains
Ain't nuttin different, parkin lot pimpin'
[Beanie Sigel]
Holla at me mami! Sigel..
You can catch Mac in the parkin lot, pimpin crazy
S-5, Navy 'Cedes, sittin on 80
That's four dubs, not S-4 dub
Stash box, push out Will like Matchbox
Bitches wanna push my world, they flash box
160, push my wheel, mash cops
Cause 160 took my wheel to cash drop
Run 60, you Big Will, match cop
Lookin through the rearview and Mac was wylin
New driver, screwdriver, the cracked steering column
Pushin somethin stolen, blastin, picture me rollin
Baghdad, couldn't picture me ??
Now the truth different, Mac come through Coupe roof missin
I'm the truth til my fuckin roof missin
Mac stay stuck in the Coupe to school pigeons
Feathers gettin plucked in the truck from loose chickens, listen
[Chorus]
[Memphis Bleek]
Yo, aiyyo I dip dip dive, what can I say?
I can't fit 'em all inside the Escalade
So I pulled up, murder to further my parkin lot pimpin
Told 'em get the Impala so I can start dippin
Lay back, seat recline, they notice the hand
Car movin slow, driven by the invisible man
Everything on the dash, digital and
I got a fast stashbox don't make me spit at you man
In the parkin lot, where I spark a lot
I come to show my new feet, slide off with a few freaks
Bleek, turn up the beats..
.. turn up the heat then we burn up the streets, bitch!
. . .
|
|
f/ Memphis Bleek
Uh huh
Is y'all ready?
Is y'all ready??
HOOK 2X:
Holla!
If you real and you know you a G
Holla!
Deep in these streets when you pumpin that D
Holla!
Be in your hood screamin fuck police
Holla!
You keep a gun and you bust for beef
[Verse 1]
Niggas say I'm focused now, they know that's my style
But dogg, I'm on the block with that coke and a smile
I still got the crack heads I.D.
And they know, I collect for the first and fifteenth
I still take cabs to that capsule spot
For them 31 illusions and them purple tops
And the game aint change, niggas is taught different
I'm raised off one rule, never get caught slippin
That's why I eat, sleep, shit with my gat
Bag up, take a piss, fuck a bitch with my gat
And I done sold it all from crack to marijuana
You can't deny it, I'm in hoods like Tom Warner
Beat cop, take away, I keep my shit
They don't know I deliver off the beeps I get
And you snitch ass niggas wanna peep my shit
But I'ma show you how deep into these streets I get
HOOK
[Verse 2]
See what this game made, and *of age I came*
And you up and coming rappers know you young to this game
*I went from Marcy to Hollywood, I'm back again*
I don't need no applaud, to clap again
Let alone, no award, from rap to win
Talk drama, get yourself wrapped up in
Severe head trauma, get beat with the nine lime-a
Cut your hand off if you fuckin with my product
That slayed shit, I'm on the grave shift
We all know fucked up money don't pay rent
You short with my ones, you short one thumb
You can't, come up short where the fuck I'm from
We got, dues to pay, new tools to spray
Who's to say, Bleek won't make news today
You know the ooze'll spray if you refuse to pay
And I move the yae nigga day by day
HOOK
. . .
|
|
f/ Beanie Sigel, Free, Memphis Bleek
[Beanie Sigel]
1-900-Hustler, Sigel, holla at your boy
What's the problem shorty?
[Shorty]
Yeah whattup man
I'm the only nigga from Brooklyn out here man
I'm tryin to lock the spot down, holla at me
[Beanie Sigel]
Alright; hold on - Hova, line one
[Jay-Z]
Here's a couple of suggestions of how you could finesse it
You find a dude in town, you send him a short message
Say, "Hey, I'm new in town, I don't know my way around
but I got some soft white that's sure to come back brown
I get that butter all night
cause most niggaz don't know a brick from a bike
They keep buyin hard white
And if you free tomorrow night we can meet and discuss price
FYI, I never been robbed in my life"
Or -- you find a chick, shit, you hole up in her crib and
let her introduce you 'round town like her man
Shake hands, make friends like it's all innocent
then -- before they look up you sellin the town cook-up
Or -- gorilla pimp, come up on that killer shit
Take a nigga brick, smack him, then you sell it back to them
Still there Brooklyn?
[Shorty]
Yeah yeah that's gangsta, I think I'ma roll with that one
[Jay-Z]
Make out a check for eight hundred dollars
Jigga Man, holla {*click*, *dial tone*}
[Beans] 1-900-Hustler, Sigel, holla at your boy
[Chris] Whassup Sig? This Chris out the Young Guns dog
[Beans] Whattup?
[Chris] I'm ready to smash these niggaz in the rap game
The niggaz takin too long with that advance money and shit
[Beans] Yeah
[Chris] Talkin 'bout chill, chill don't pay the bills
[Beans] Yeah I feel that
[Chris] I know you well connected dog
Let me holla at somebody real
[Beans] Aight look, I got the perfect person for you, hold on
Bleek, line two
[Memphis Bleek]
Listen shorty, you wanna roll just give me the word
I ain't got time for a sentence all that shit is absurd
You find a strip first, if you don't cook find a bitch first
If you don't hustle find a nigga who pitch first
You new in town, no red and blue in town, there's gangs
Don't get fresh, let 'em know you small change
The strong move quiet, the weak start riots
We know you got a brick but sell 'em twenties til they tired
With no credit, you know you sick with that gotta eat fetish
and other niggaz who gettin it - DEAD IT
Make 'em an offer that they can't refuse
He resists, box him in, til he can't be moved
Here's the rules: chop it, bag it, stash it, stack it
Get in, get out - that's a O.G.'s classic
900-Hustler, you pass it around
Wanna speak to me direct, hit extension trey-pound, I'm out
{*click*, *dial tone*}
[Beans] 1-900-Hustler, Sigel, holla at your dog
What seem to be the problem young boy?
[MDKHN] Yo whattup, this Murder Def Kill Homicide Nigga
(??) I got two freaks
[Beans] Yo watch your fuckin mouth man
[MDKHN] Fuck you mean watch my mouth nigga?
Been on hold for about two hours nigga
[Beans] I don't give a fuck how long you been on the line;
shut the fuck up! Matter of fact, hold on
{*click*, *classical type music plays*}
[MDKHN] I know this nigga ain't just put.. put me on hold man
This bullshit-ass elevator music
[Beans] Free, pick up line five
[Free]
First things first, watch what you say out your mouth
when you talkin on the phone to hus-tlers
Never play the house, stink 'dro, keep weed in the couch
when you sittin in the presence of cus-tomers
Never hold out, pull out, throw heat and be out
if a nigga ever think that he touchin-ya
Lay low, get cake, whip all over the state
Stash dough, whip yay with, right amount of bake (hoe!)
Nigga too close went right around his place (yo!)
You stoppin dough when we clutchin the gats?
I know you heard "Friend or Foe," this ain't different from that
Make sure you got your four-four and he can slip if he like
Young, Jon Benet doin a mission tonight and yo
until you up stay away from them dice and whores
Three smuts, two streaks and a dyke
can pause one-three rumbles two streaks and a pipe for sure
And if it's tight, then he might come back for more
Nine and four, everyday back and forth
Winter to summer, 1-900-Hustler
Pass the number til you're stackin balls
Tell you how to weigh shit wet and package more
I take cash or write the check out to F-R
two E's, that'll be two G's
And forget my money I'm comin for all your ki's, nigga
{*click*, *dial tone*}
[Beans] 1-900-Hustler, Sigel, holla at your boy dog
[MDKHN] Yo whattup young, you put me on hold earlier man what happened
[Beans] Yeah you stupid motherfucker {MDKHN: Watch your mouth man}
you talkin all reckless on the phone
[Beans] Fuck you think this the,
Get-Indicted-Hotline or somethin motherfucker?
[MDKHN] Yo, my bad man, my bad
I know I was talkin reckless earlier about them two chickens
You get it, you know, two chickens? But listen
[Beans] What?
[MDKHN] Just tell me how to move this shit man
I'm pushin hardly half a wing back nigga, holla
[Beans] Get a job, holla at Perdue!
{*click*, *dial tone*}
. . .
|
|
f/ Beanie Sigel, Memphis Bleek
[Jay-Z]
Nah motherfucker
Ge-ge-geah-geah
Geah-geah-ge-ge-geah-geah
Geah-geah-ge-ge-geah-geah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
[Beanie Sigel]
We be the R,O,C .. y'all get your dope from us
We runs the R,O,C.. yeah, keep up niggaz, c'mon
Aiyyo you niggaz talk a lot of nuthin, like you always God or sumthin
Like you always shot at sumthin, niggaz never shot at nuthin
Like you shotty sumthin, like you body sumthin
nigga your body duckin is nuthin you're bluffin
You niggaz talk shit like you draw quick
but when the 4's grip, I floor quick; you, your man, your bullshit
Your man bullshit? Might get him four quick
All up in his fore shit; c'mon, stop the bullshit
It's B Sig dog, straight in da league y'all
Straight out da school yard Hoover, I schooled y'all
Now school's out, lights out tools out
You fools out c'mon y'all pick a new route
while I pick the new flow, kick it to your new ho'
to get next to your new dough
Your new crack spot you know Mac steal crack to crack pot
niggaz know I spit on every track hot
[Chorus: repeat 2X]
It's the R, O, C, stop
From Tower to ma'n'pop we move out the stop
R,O,C, stop
We shower your mom block and move out with glocks
[Memphis Bleek]
Uhh, yeah, uh-huh, yo this for my G's
Yo yo
Aiyyo, this for my G's, hoes, gangstas, foes
niggaz who get dough rep for get lo
I got cake (cake) weight (weight) shanks (shanks)
eights (eights) bank (bank) bitch act straight
I'm hot son
[Beans] Stop son they livin a lie duke
You plot son I pop one still in the sky duke
M to the A to the R-C-Y duke
niggaz die here can't nothin revive you
I'm still here niggaz see what I drive through
Sittin on dubs with screens inside too
I'm simply street, I'm Memphis Bleek
Catch me with them green jars in the tinted jeep
On, B-L-A-D's I get C-L-A-P's
Catch me not givin a fuck I'm on these LA Trees
One for Sigel Sigel, two for the Jigga and
Three for Amil-lion and four for Memph Man
[Chorus]
[Beanie Sigel]
Aiyyo you shouldn't have been talkin that like you was walkin that
And Mac with this mac ..
and let off fifty shots where you be walkin at
Where your apartment at
You fuck around and have me creepin in the dark where you be often at
or where you be.. creepin at
Where your birds be.. shh
Oops mean (chirpin at) damn I'm hurtin that
Workin that spittin that shit like that's on purpose
That's, some freestyle shit, I don't know
Hey playboy take that back a bit
Yo you shouldn't have been talkin that like you was walkin that
and Mac with this mac ..
and let off fifty shots where you be walkin at
Where your apartment at
You fuck around have me creepin in the dark where you be often at
or where you be.. creepin at, sleepin at
Where your birds be, cheepin at
Oops mean chirpin that, damn I be workin that
Hurtin that, aiyyo playboy (?) that
[Chorus]
[Outro]
R,O,C, stop
R,O,C.. mom block and move out with glocks
Uhh uhh, geah, uh-huh-uh-uh
Uh-huh-uh-uh, y'all can't fuck with us
Un-stop-pa-ble-Roc, y'all can't fuck with us
Un-stop-pa-ble-Roc, y'all can't fuck with us
Un-stop-pa-ble-Roc, y'all can't fuck with us {*fades out*}
. . .
|
|
Thanks to Stephanie for submitting the lyrics
[Jay-Z]
Mmm, you don't understand now be..cause you're cryin, and you hurt
You'll understand soon enough.. soon enough
[Singer overlaps Jay-Z]
Let him hold you, let him touch you
Soon you'll un-der-stand
[Jay-Z]
You're my best friend's sister, grown woman and all
But you see how I am around girls; I ruin 'em all
Plus your mom call me son, around you since I was small
Shit I watched you mature - nah, this ain't right
But still when your boyfriend ditched you, life's a bitch you cried
Over my right shoulder I told you to wipe your eyes
Take your time when you likin a guy
Cause if he sense that your feelings too intense, it's pimp or die
I bought you earrings on your birthday
Drove you to college your first day
It must be sad, though it hurts to say
We could never be a item, don't even like him
You deserve better - this is ugly; Gina, please don't love me
There's better guys out there other than me
{You need a lawyer or a doctor or somebody like that you know}
Like a lawyer or a doctor with a Ph.D
Think of how upset your mother and brother would be
if they found that you was huggin me
My conscience is fuckin with me
[Singer]
Let him hold you, let him touch you
Soon you'll un-der-stand
[Jay-Z]
Man, I look in the eyes of a..
this.. a kid that stole life and me together..
We're tryin, really tryin to make it work
I'm young, and I ain't ready, and I told you
[Singer overlaps Jay-Z]
Let him hold you, let him touch you
Soon you'll un-der-stand
[Jay-Z]
It ain't like, I ain't tell you from day one, I ain't shit
When it comes to relationships, I don't have the patience
Now it's too late, we got a little life together
and in my mind I really want you to be my wife forever
But in the physical it's like I'ma be trife forever
A different girl every night forever; told you to leave
but you're stubborn and you love him and,
no matter what despite all the fuckin and the cheatin,
you still won't leave him, now you're grievin
And I feel bad, believe me
But I'm young and I ain't ready, and this ain't easy
Wasn't fair to tell you to wait, so I told you to skate
You chose not to, now look at the shit we gotta go through
Doin a fight, throw in a fuss, you the mother of my baby
I don't want you to hate me, this is about us
Rather me; I ain't ready to be what you want me to be
Because I love you, I want you to leave, please
[Singer]
Let him hold you, let him touch you
Soon you'll un-der-stand
[Jay-Z]
Mm... listen ma
I mean, I seen you workin two or three jobs
Daddy left... I I thought I was makin things better
I made it worse
[Singer overlaps Jay-Z]
Let him hold you, let him touch you
Soon you'll un-der-stand
[Jay-Z]
Dear ma, I'm in the cell, lonely as hell
Writin this scribe, thinkin bout how you must feel inside
You tried to teach me better, but I refused to grow
God damn I ain't the young man that you used to know
You said the street claim lives, but I wanted things like
bling bling ice I was wrong in hindsight
Shit we grew apart, try to blame it on your new spouse
I know it hurt like hell the day you kicked me out
But your house is your house, I ain't respect the rules
I brought crack past your door, beefed with rival crews
And who wants to be the mother of a son who sold drugs
Co-workers saw me on the corner slingin Larry Love
Meanwhile, you workin hard like, two or three jobs
Tryin to feed me and my siblings, makin an honest livin
Who am I kiddin I, call myself easin the load
I made the load heavy, I need money for commissary
Try to understand, please
[Singer - repeat all 6X until fade]
Let him hold you, let him touch you
Soon you'll un-der-stand
. . .
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Uh, yeah, mmmm
William H. niggas
Holla, yeah, yo
HOOK:
That's why I, squeeze first ask quesions last
That's how most of these so called gangstas pass
I, squeeze first ask questions last
Cuz when I pull up, always pop, that's why I'm livin today
[JIGGA]
Yo, when I meet ya, I heat ya down
When I greet ya, meet ya with pound
Not the handshake, but the kind that make ya demand a wake
The kind that put land over your face
I pop ya, let doctors stitch ya
I-N-F-R-A, will not miss ya
I move light, like my shoes too tight
Leave niggas confused from the day to the night
At night, see the light, when the pistol's sparkin
Daytime it gets dark when that pistol barkin
I keep cash 'case cops arrest me
'case kids kidnap me, kids could get back me
You shall repent 'fore you spend a red cent
If not, you somebody up close to sin
Thou shalt not fuck with raw me, or he
Face a thousand deaths from Mr. Shawn Correy
Carter, rap harder like I'm part of a cult
Like Cuban cigar maker 'cept I'm hard to smoke
And y'all choke motherfuckers
HOOK
[JIGGA]
I said thou shalt not fuck with raw me, or he
Face a thousand deaths from Mr. Shawn Correy
Carter, rap harder like I'm part of a cult
Like Cuban cigar maker 'cept I'm hard to smoke
Thou shalt not fuck with raw me, or he
Face a thousand deaths from Mr. Shawn Correy
Carter, rap harder like I'm part of a cult
Like Cuban cigar maker 'cept I'm hard to smoke
And y'all choke niggas
HOOK
[JIGGA]
Y'all don't understand
I said thou shalt not fuck with raw me, or he
Face a thousand deaths from Mr. Shawn Correy
Carter, rap harder like I'm part of a cult
Like Cuban cigar maker 'cept I'm hard to smoke
Y'all choke niggas
HOOK
[JIGGA]
See when I'm low in digits, I push blow in a blizzard
I'm a player for real, I post and pivot
Coke distribute, be where the ghostes visit
Where the demons live, shit my scene is vivid
Squeamish kids, y'all get the fuck outta this verse
It's about to get so obscene in a minute
I seen and live it, I did some things I admit it
Wasn't proud of it, but I was a child fuck it
Kept a pow tucked in a brown belt
Couldn't sit down, big gun kept stickin my pelvis
Shit it was either that or be livin wit Elvis
Niggas is jealous, hell is hot, you heard X
Wanted to tell God that I don't deserve this
Was afraid that he'd tell me I deserve less
My life was nervous, you haven't heard stress
Til you heard the cries of my mama, me givin her drama
Told her I aint promised tomorrow, gotta live for the day
And before she could say Jay...
I was out the door, pouch full of raw, a outlaw mentality
Men gotta do men things for men salary
Bad Boy, not Puff or Mike Lowery, damn B.I.G. woulda been proud of me
Ahh shit man...
Young Hova ya heard?
Who could fuck wit him?
. . .
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f/ Beanie Sigel
Thanks to Stephanie for submitting the
lyrics
[Beanie Sigel]
Damn how am I gonna say this shit?
hey... hey dad, yeah it's your boy
remember me? I wanna talk to you scrap
I remember being kicked out the house
'cause I looked just like you
Said I'd be nothing but a crook
just like you
The niggaz in the hood was shook
Where the just like you
'Cause all they said was little whitey look
I'm just like you
But dog I can't see it at all, shit
We never kicked it at all
We never pitched or kicked at a ball
dog, you never taught me shit
how to fight, ride a bike, fix a flat
none of that sorts of shit
Nigga you was an abusive pops
fuck you left me out to dry, stuck
gotta teach news to box
gotta teach news to bop
and that aint the half of it man
I gotta teach news to block
It's about time we have a father to son (nigga sit down)
sit down let me tell you 'bout your fatherless sons
how they grew to be men and father they sons
father they daughters
nigga, you left a fatherless daughter
I never follow your orders
nigga you make me sick
pussy you could....ooh
how you gonna leave these memories in the back of my mind
I can see it clear as day you smackin my mom
I 'member that day you showed me that gat, that 9
put it in my palm when I was young
and said that would be mine, you turned me out
the reason why I hit the block
reason why I tried to hit them cops
reason why I started hittin shots
reason why I started gettin licked
and drinkin syrup and skippin court
ginger bread man never think of gettin caught
look at your hand man damn you fought
nigga you left my mom
left us with no good-bye's
you left us out to dry
you left us with no letters, notes, (nothing!) no replies
no digits numbers was unlisted
you left us with some of my loneliest night
nigga some of my hungriest nights
shit, one of the reasons for years (shit embarrasin)
damn we used to think money was white
yeah you gave us life like, fruit from a plant
we aint eat right from them foods from them stamps
and to think you was my pop,
man i gotta stop shit
chorus: (Beanie Sigel)
dad where have you been
(and when you come home you got us here all along)
mommy where daddy went
(you always take up for him always said you'd make up for him)
mommy what happened then
(what was you cheatin on him why he was always beatin on you?)
daddy where have you been?
(nigga, you gonna hear me out)
[Jay-Z]
I wanted to walk just like him (remember?)
wanted to talk just like him (word)
often momma said I look too much
and I thought just like him (it could happen)
wanted to drink Miller nips
and smoke Newports just like you
but you left me, now I'm goin to court just like you
I would say "my daddy loves me and he'll never go away"
bullshit, do you even remember December's my birthday?
do you even remember the tender boy
you turned into a cold young man
with one goal and one plan
get mommy out of some jam, she was always in one
always short with the income
always late with the rent
You said that you was comin through
I would stay in the hallway (waitin)
always playin the bench (waitin)
and that day came and went
Fuck You! very much you showed me the worst kind of pain
but I'm stronger and trust me I will never hurt again
will never ask mommy "why daddy don't love me?
Why is we so poor?, why is life so ugly?
Mommy why is your eyes puffy?"
please don't cry everything'll be alright
I know it's dark now, but we gon' see the light
It's us against the world
we don't need him, right? (right)
mommy drivin 6's now (yeah), I got riches now (yeah)
I bought I nice home for both of my sisters now
we doin real good
we don't miss you now
see how life twists around? (fucka!)
chorus
. . .
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