check it out y’all (Scratching)

[Whitey Ford]
Whitey Ford. X-Ecutioner style

Emcee am I people call me Ev
when I’m bustin’ up the party hear my engine rev
With high resolution in the late p.m
X-Men scratch the beat while i drop this gem
Got tints on my windows so you can’t see in
pack it up pack it in baby once again.
Ain’t no way to check me (check me)
No way to wreck me (wreck me)
And shit gets hectic if you disrespectin.
Stiller than night I’ma see my light
On the top of the Marquee kid bill me right
You know it ain’t right, but yo it’s ok
see this type of shit happens everyday

(scratching)
You see this type of shit happens everyday
(scratching)
You know this type of shit happens everyday
(scratching)

It goes one for the thugs, two for the chickens
peckerwood stats classic like slim pickins
Fuck the Democrats, and the Republicans
got all your cars bouncin’ like a bunch of Mexicans
Porter rock style I’ll Touch you like Tony
you claim to keep it real but still comin’ out phony.
It’s just one emcee and four dj’s
give us six turntables and a mic to blaze.
I’ma said it like Pun in the house of fun
I burn hotter than the heat that’s made by sun.
Got a gun, ain’t a uzi, but it weighes a ton
It’s B-Boy punk rock 2001

(scratching)
It’s B-Boy punk rock 2001
(scratching)
It’s B-Boy punk rock 2001
(scratching)

World keeps spinnin’. X-Men keep winnin
X-Men keep winnin. X-Men keep winnin
It’s B-Boy punk rock 2001. It’s B-Boy punk rock 2001

When the cats, awake
the mice will play
thats what the people say
all I know is doggs play anyways
cuz I play everyday
you do it too dont lie
soon as you’re out my site
I seen you creepin by
while I was creepin mine
while I was checkin out
I saw you checkin in
I shoulda knocked you out
but I was with your friend

x2
Because I got a girl, dont mean we can’t talk
Because I got a girl, dont mean I wont break you off
x4
(Come On) Come on girl let me heed it
(Come on) Meet me at the deli thats if you’re weeded

Back in the days I used to like bitches
but I tell you nowadays bitches ain’t shit
and if you wonder why I say this
I’ve had a few bitches and bitches think they slick
runnin around, playin all my niggaz
trying to split a brother from his grip
got all these bustaz watchin me
but I tell you right now hoe, I dont slip
I’d like to give a shout out to my favorite girl
but I wont you know why, because she’s a trick
and if I give a shout out to a sneaky bitch
I got to give a shout to the nigga she’s sneakin with
(and all my homeys say)

(Chorus x4)
Because I got a girl, dont mean we can’t talk
(come on girl let me heed it)
because I got a girl, dont mean I wont break you off
(meet me at the deli thats if you’re weeded)
(x4)
come on girl let me heed it
meet me at the deli thats if you’re weeded

Cuz I have never met a girl
that I love in the whole wide world

Go
Now let’s see what’s going on
See inside
It’s quiet inside, see
Now let’s hear what’s going on
Hear inside

You hear the cries of love – a sad tune
And feel the salt-lick stingin’ love?s wound
Those tears that you cry leave a blood stain
They fall to the ground like a sweet rain
Cos bad girls they do

B.A.D.- Bad, make your mom and daddy sad
B.A.D.- Bad, It’s the bloody fix you do
Oh, Look out

You see what’s in you head: fantasy
And need, but you can’t have B.A.D.
Call a spade a spade only if you want to
Cos by any other name it’s taboo
Cos bad boys they do

B.A.D.- Bad, make your mom and daddy sad
B.A.D.- Bad, It’s the bloody fix you do, the bloody fix you do

B.A.D.- Bad, make your mom and daddy sad
B.A.D.- Bad, gonna drive you raving mad
B.A.D.- Bad, make your mom and daddy sad
B.A.D.- Bad It’s the bloody fix you do

* to the beat of and styled after Schoolly D’s “P.S.K. What Does it Mean?”

Yo
C-Gutta where you at?
D Rockafella
Caesar Leo Degenero
Bled C
Money SL
Uhh…

B.I.G. is making this cream
Bitches always say what the hell does that mean?
B is for the bitches, who can’t understand
How one fly nigga became a man
I is for the way it goes in and out
One by one I knocks em out
G is for the way the game goes in the gutter
Other MC’s man they ain’t sayin nuthin
Rockin on, to the break of dawn
Make the bitch give the pussy get the mouth I’m gone

What?
It ain’t no more to it

So you’ve seen I’ve gotten this far.
Please give me some place to worry.
I’m not trying to go there, so take me away.
Life sometimes pisses me off.
It’s never a good trip for me
Every time I reach for love, it’s taken away.
Night! So I play.
Give me a sign this is day.
Give me some patience, so I pray.
It’s time to die. Is that what I want?
There’s nothing wrong wanting to be loved.
Is there something wrong with me?
Once in my life I’d like to be really set free.
Let me be me.
Night! So I play.
Give me a sign this is day.
Give me some guidance, so I pray.
It’s time to die. Is that what I want?
Take me away.
Taken away.
Take me away.
Taken… away.
Something I get, I got to get home
Run, run, run, run, run, run running home
Where is my home…
Night! So I play.
Give me a sign this is day.
Give me some patience, so I pray.
It’s time to die. Is that what I want?
Night! So I play.
Give me a sign this is day.
Give me some guidance, so I pray.
It’s time to die. Is that what I want?

If you have trouble coming to Jesus, my friend
‘Cause its so easy; just believe and He’ll mend
Your broken heart
And give you eternal life

I used to hate God, churches, and all
But I took His new life when I heard His call
Into my heart
And I took His gift of love

Strangeness inside; wonders and chills
Then tears, like rain; such sweet, sweet pain
I knew His love
He left my hate far behind

[Chorus: Foxy Brown]
Lemme tell you where I grew up at
Sip mo’, threw up at, flip coke, blew up that
Where them fake thugs got they vest-es chewed up at
Brooklynnn beef! Who want that?

[Foxy Brown]
I grew up in the thoroughist bourough – B.K.
Where B.I.G. had everybody rockin D.K.
Gav was the first dude with the C.L.K.
and bricks was gettin shipped outta East L.A.
It’s Brooklyn, where niggaz lives was tooken
Rich cats got knocked and they wallets was tooken
Fort Greene and Hemlock, the fifth been cocked
We cried when they killed Lenox and popped them rocks
(Aiyyo, ya ain’t hear, what {the fuck} I just said?)
B.K. – the home of Biggie and Jay
Where niggaz got Will Smith chips, get jiggy all day
Bitches that boost in the city all day
Heckel and Koch, crack spots, federal watch
I grew up here, sip Mo’, threw up here
Yo the feds snatched two up here, in B.K.
Niggaz in the hood in that all blue and grey
Gorillas got rich from stairwells and P.A.

[Chorus] – 2X

[Foxy Brown]
Brooklyn! The livest borough
You come here frontin you might die in this borough
The East, the feelin Bed-Stuy’s in this borough
It’s full of projects, the wildest borough
Try to figure out which side is thorough
From, C.I. to Saint Marks is carryin cons
Niggaz rock Coogi and Dolce Gaban’s
So women here make a livin just carryin bombs
We pop, corks a little bit and we floss a little bit
In the club, buyin out Cris’, pour us a little bit
I told y’all that my borough is thorough
I know niggaz that’ll clap you up and bury the metal
Same day, still in the hood we so, ghetto
Brook-Nam, holla back, get your crook on
Live from the seven-one-eight, we raised the eight
Everytime papi raise the weight of that weight, motherfucker

[Chorus] – 2X

[Foxy Brown]
It’s B.K. nigga, get yo’ vest ate up
Over them chips, you could get S-Ked up
They find you in the back of the buildin – sprayed up
All for the love of this paper; we misled
By 21 – some’ll be dead
By 22 – the rest of these dudes’ll be in the Feds
We got change but we still FUCKED up
Niggaz is outta jail but they still locked up
The feds takin flicks when we pullin the drops up
BK open up, get popped up
You know it’s the borough where cats drive with the box in the truck
Tre’ pound glocked up, wrist be rocked up
Yellin out “Get down, lay down when we pop up!”
Blocks so hot we drive the drops with tops up
Windows tinted, you can’t see who is in it
It’s Brown nigga, I represent it, it’s Brooklyn!

[Chorus] – 4X

[Outro]
B.K. borough bitches, ain’t nuttin but the best in here
(?) Housings, East New York, real niggaz, real shit happen nigga
Fuck y’all know about bang-outs, gettin busy?
Fuck police and all that nigga, real niggaz
Brooklyn nigga!

[Casey Lee]
The B to the L, the A to the Z to the E
Early twenties, girls by the twenties
Rims buy ’em twenty, never gin slide me Henny
Blunts roll in twenties, got my stunts holdin’ semis
Blaze in the Bentley; be like Jay, “Come and Get Me”
Straight from Q-U-E percisely 40P

[Rah Digga]
Yo you that brother that I always see on MTV
I ain’t cop your album got it off the MP3
But it’s hot though take it from another emcee
That’s what I’m tryna be

[Casey Lee]
Shorty it’s the M-O-N-E-Y
My wrists will leave your eyes B-L-I-N-D
My passion for poetry and parting from poverty
Leaves me in position to mould my own like pottery

[Rah Digga] + (Joy Bryant)
Heh, ain’t really sweatin’ you brother, we tryna parlay see
(I heard A&R was short for armed robbery)
I heard selling records is like hitting the lottery

[Casey Lee]
All you need is talent shorty, Blaze got plenty
Shorty holla, come on

The B, the L, the A, the Z, the E (*repeat 8X*)

[Casey Lee] + (Joy Bryant)
If you start from my toes to my dome like Gators
Iceburg, Gucci, my head cap is Raiders
CD so hot you gotta play hot potato
And Primo won’t even take me out with the fader
Cause my voice is laid with paper, my crib, Jamaica
You know the action, get planes built to go there
(What about your Grammy?)
Got it chillin’ at my mother’s crib
Right next to the Golden Globe
For actin’ like I give a fuck

[Rah Digga]
What you talkin’ ’bout? Diamond life, you livin’ it
Benji’s, Bentley’s, your cash flow is infinite

[Casey Lee]
But you know there’s more to life than videos
They’re different
Cali is where it’s at
And that’s a wrap, my lip I’m zippin’ it

The B, the L, the A, the Z, the E (*repeat 8X*)

Verse One (Andre):
Yeah… Intro-national, underground,
Thunder bounce when I stomp the ground, (Whoo!)
Like a million elephants or silverback orangutans,
You can?t stop my train,
Who want some, Don?t come unprepaired,
I?ll be there, but when I leave there,
Better be a house on Maine,
Weatherman tellin? us it ain?t gon? rain,
So now we sittin? in a drop-top soakin? wet,
In a silk suit, tryin? not to sweat,
Hittin? somersaults without the net,
But this?ll be the year that we won?t forget,
One-nine-nine-nine, And around me anything goes,
Be what you wanna be, Long as you know,
Consequenses are given,
For livin? defensless,
Too hot to jump in jail,
Too low to dig, I might just touch hell, (HOT!)
Get a life, now they on sale,
Then I might catch you a spell, Look at what came in the mail,
A scale and some Arm & Hammer,
Charcoal grill and a baby mamma,
Black Cadillac and a pack of pampers,
Stack of questions, wit? no answers,
Cure for cancer, cure for AIDS,
Make a nigga wanna stay on tour for days,
Get back home, things are wrong,
Well, not really, it was bad all along,
Fo? you left assed out to a ball of power,
Lost at a thousand miles per hour,
Hello, ghetto, let yo? brain? free,
Believe there?s always mo?… Ooowww!!!

Chorus:
Don?t pull the thang out unless you plan to bang…
Bombs over Baghdad, yeah…
Don?t even bang unless you plan to hit some-thang…
Bombs over Baghdad, yeah…
(Repeat)




Verse Two (Big Boi):
Uno, dos, tres, it?s on,
Did ya ever think a pimp rock the microphone,
Like that there, boi, but we still stay street,
Big thangs happen every time we meet,
Like a track team, craft ain?t dyin? a geek,
Outkast bumpin? up and down the streets,
Slam back Cadillac, ?bout five …(Blank)…
75 emcees fresstylin? to the beat,
?Cause we get crunk, stay crunk at the club,
Should of bought a ounce, but ya caught the dubs,
Shoulda held back, but ya throwed the punch,
?Posed to meet ya girl, but ya packed the lunch,
No G-to-the-U-to-the-G fa you,
Got a son on the way by the name of Bamboo,
Got a little baby girl for a year, Jordan,
Never turn my back on my kids for them,
Shoulda hit it… Quit it… Rag top…
Before ya reek up, get a lab… top
Make a business for yourself, boy, sell some golds,
Make a phat diamond outta dust and coal,
Record number four, but we on a roll,
Hold up, slow up, stop, control,
Like Janet, planet, Stankonia, it?s on ya,
Movin? like Floyd, comin? straight to Florida,
Block all ya windows and block the corridors,
Pullin? off my belt ?cause the women?s in order,
Like three piece fish, boy I cut ya daughter,
Yo quiero Taco Bell, then I hit the border,
Pity pap rapper, tryin? to get to five,
I?m a microphone fiend, tryin? to stay alive,
When ya come to ATL, boy, ya bet? not hide,
?Cause the Dungeon Family gon? ride… HAH!

Chorus

Guitar solo…