[Beanie Sigel]
Ughh, ughh, yeah
This is Beanie Sigel
That Philly cat playin’ wit that silly rap
Put your weight up, not your hate up, niggas
Y’all know how I play quiet towns and tie ’em down
Haters wonderin’ how I got a position with Roc
Cuz I listen to The LOX and I listen then watch
While you still sittin’ in spots, ditchin’ the cops
I’m in the Porsche Box with Fox, glistenin’ watch
War steel gray, Lexus, GS-4
Desert Eagle metal in the door, pedal to the floor
I’m routin’ down South, for my aim is to score
Eight cylinder, screamin’ ‘Fuck the law!’

Got a tank full of gas, trunk full of cash
Hammers in the stash, scanners in the dash
Radar detectors, troopers can’t find us
We bubble down ATL and hit the ‘Linas
Then get clubbed with some Dirty South thugs
Go all out thugs, go in your house thugs
Talk shit, put blood in your mouth thugs
36 South stuck, stay on route thugs
You know how Mac play, quiet town, tie it down
I supply it now, by the pound
Might front you a Q if you buy a pound
If you didn’t try it then, why would you try it now?
Think cause Mac rap, I wouldn’t fire a round into your crown
I lay you down and retire you clown

And I clap niggas, nap niggas in the dirt
Pat-pat with the deuce deuce, it’ll work
Bitch ass niggas wearin’ thongs and skirts
Catch ’em early in the mornin’ while they goin’ to work
See you pretty motherfuckers stay stuck in the mirror
And you weak ass niggas only bust out of fear
I know y’all softer than them feathers that they stuff in a bear
I pack two barettas, never bust in the air
Twist your shit back, spit til my gat sits back
Pack four pieces like a Kit Kat. Heh, get that?
Cop Cris’ by the six-pack, Range Rov?’ Dot six that
Benz Coupe, drop six that
Buggy eye seven come out? Shit, took the six back
Switch the Double R, the Double R’s are, gotta get that
You see how we play, pop Cris’ on the E-Way
Soakin’ the seat, gettin’ drunk with Bleek
Or the Shark Bar, grilled salmon, poppin’ Dom P
While you chicken when you chasin’ your high with hot tea
Niggas flashin’ back money like it’s they money
Slap 500 on back of a three-twenty
I’m bringin’ it to any nigga tryin’ to shoot games (yeah)
With them bullshit buggy-eyed kits and CDs

[Memphis Bleek]
Check it out, yo, yo
Well, I’m a lil’ nigga don’t speak, I tote heat
Here to shut down your whole operation on the street
Bleek, you know niggas just had to recruit this
My flow drool out like a old nigga toothless
Who would believe they pump Bleek with Ritalin
Too hyped up, but weed calm my adrenaline
Roll day on the strip, SK in the crib
Hundred crack viles, playin’ the Benj’
Nickel nine gleam, like it’s Armor All’d up
My squad be armed up, gotcha niggas’ arms up
Who the fuck want what? Me and Bean’s trumped up
Witcha town under siege, Dillinger in the sleeve
If my gun jam, you niggas’ll squeeze on me
You niggas them cats, that’ll call D’s on me
I’m on on my off game, need a stadium for in stores
Floss chains and I pimp whores, stay smoked out
Shirt be poked out with the snub-nosed eight
Six to jump out, you eat what you spit
Motherfucker die clean
For you actin’ tough cats, but in your heart you scream
I read your body languo
You off balance and don’t wanna mangle
You want a challenge, get it brought to from every angle
This shit’ll slow ’em down, I bet that
Your up front dough and your six, bet that motherfucker

[Foxy Brown]
Sassy Fox some brick money, cop me a drop
You know how I run it, 600, glassy top
Rock the light gray wrist shit, flash them rocks
The red, the yellow, the green, causin’ traffic stops
Bitch please, never freeze, gonna blast the glock
Then I show a little cleave’ and breeze past the cops

Weeble-lations!!

(*E-40*)

Weeble-lations testin, testin.
Testin, testin,
hey, turn my mic up, this a bitch, I got my dudes up in this mutha
fucka, that boy Eightball, 4-Tay, Speeze-weeze, Spice-weeze, ya smell
me? It’s E-feeze. Mutha fuckaz ain’t understandin the signs of this, I
cuss a mutha fucka out.

(*Eightball*)

Niggaz gonna be feelin, what I’m revealin,
tryin to do some healin, an at the same time make a million,
vibrate love an happiness in this ghetto maze,
hate us playaz got this ryhme stayin in a rage,
kill wit a pill, broke game like Nintendo,
three hours an fourty-four minutes straight to Frisco,
bumpin the Rappin, 4-Tayzee baby,
me an 40 Water in the big body Mercedez.

(*Rappin 4-Tay*)

Four hundred, five hundred V-12 black coupe,
none of my weebles wake that barkley comin out the roof,
choppin major game on the strength,
man we goes back juss like them splinters an ’em temps, uh
met this bitch that was in Houston, said she was from Houston,
said her profession was stackin major paper roll,
first at times it seems, gold credit cards we get that ass,
went from bennies to bossalini’s, collectin cash,
they whistlin, I’m glistin like Sammy Davis,
born an raised in the Bay them hataz can’t fade us,
I am the rapper that they call 4-Tay,
360 degrees, they can’t fade the Yay, fool.

(*Eightball*)

Fuckin off in the Bay wit some crazy niggaz,
gettin drunk, gettin high so they saved ya nigga,
from the bottom of the stream to the top of the mountian,
in the “O” straight clownin,
talkin bout whats goin down an,
these niggaz feelin me,
soakin up the love I give,
nigga all of us got kids, an only got one life to live,
but sometimes that shit don’t matta,
animosity can lead we to ratta-tatta,
splatta,
all over shit, an leave tricks motionless,
drinkin blood like I, an spittin fire like kiss,
the only nigga sick as this,
behind me,
is the gangsta, S-P-I-C-E.

(*Spice-1*)

Yeah smell me,
yo five albums in the game,
500 Benzo in my name,
five niggaz in a bucket,
five zig-zags to the brain,
to the greedy lil paper, I’m on the MTV news,
I’m havin slugs fo shistey niggaz, tryin ta give me the blues,
I ain’t a mutha fuckin Italian,
but my crew run like the Mafia,
Eightball, 4-Tay, Banks, an 40 Water,
an me Bossalini, Freddy Chico, Chanelle shit,
met a couple of inncidents where some niggaz tried to kill me,
juss a part of the game,
jelous niggaz out fo fame,
when steady bustin at me,
is to give no names,
but when they runnin up on this muthafuckin Don
they catchin pieces of hell,
hot slugs from a nigga that’s fresh out on bail.

(*Eightball*)

Long time comin baby,
somewhere off in the hills,
me an 40 Waters choppin it up, keep or kill,
on the real about this underground lifestyle,
intoxicated,
an always heavily sedated,
Bank’s rocks the beat,
I grab the mic an bust,
turn into a monster,
eatin weak mc’s up,
smokin trees up,
pinnin hoes knees up,
feds wouldn’t ease up,
had to put the keys up,
findin Jesus prayin fo the weak,
hopin somebody’s on they knees prayin fo me,
in the midnight hour somewhere on them drugs,
in a room full ‘o thugs, 40 tell em how it was.

(*E-40*)

They shot my mama’s house up, back in 1992(’92),
I keep goin back an play possum like I don’t know who,
if I knew who, what, when, where an how,
if I knew back then, would I know now?
the rap game ain’t never gonna be decreasin,
the only thing the rap game
gonna keep on doin is increasin(increasin),
there will be no over-night sensations,
them 40, Eightball, MJG, only drip
we been layin it down since trout season,
now all of a sudden I lo

I guess it’s not my lucky day today oh well
You’ve been good to me
You make me feel so happy
Can’t believe that I deserve it though

Love’s more than the silly games you play oh no
Play it casually
No need to get a sweat on
At least not at the moment so

369 all the time
What’s the meaning in the number
Somebody tell me
369 through my mind
All I’m getting is a number
Somebody help me please

Take this bitter cup away from me oh oh
It takes two you know
So if you’re feeling lonely
Why not start a conversation no no

Another bitter twist of irony ho ho
Not that easily
My heart is on the warpath
I don’t need a reservation

369 all the time
What’s the meaning in the number
Somebody tell me
369 through my mind
All I’m getting is a number
Somebody help me

369 so sublime
All I’m getting is a number
Somebody tell me
369 for the sixth time
What’s this with that number
Somebody help me

Now that you know you have no one
But yourself to blame
No matter which way you look at it
It still looks the same

[SOLO]

I guess it’s not my lucky day today oh well
You’ve been good to me
You make me feel so happy
Can’t believe that I deserve it though

At Farnley Park cricket ground there’s a Sycamore tree
And it stands thirty feet inside the boundary
I think that someone slapped a Preservation Order on the tree
So it’s good the players don’t take the game too seriously
Now there are no advertising boards to get in the way
And no computer scoreboard, hip, hip, hooray
Just an old bloke and a stubby pencil end
Who misses a run or two now and again
You see he’s too busy looking at the Sycamore tree
He says, “It’s all part of the game”
And I agree

I heard that in the First World War
The soldiers called a truce
For a Christmas game of football
Instead of fighting their pointless war
Instead of fighting their pointless war
Pointless war, pointless war, pointless war
A general later condemned the men
Said that “Fraternizing with the enemy
Was an appalling breach of regulations”
So draw your own conclusions
Draw your own conclusions
Draw your own conclusions

Bees buzzing, birds singing
The jack turning off the crown
A lawnmower in the distance
The wood coming nicely ’round
Sitting near the green just chatting
A bad rub, a blocked line
Watching that throw for length
A bias on the garden cutting it fine
“See you tomorrow, Ada”
“See you tomorrow, Bill”

pick up the pieces that i left behind
i woke up today feeling older
and never so much better
i know i talk in circles.
i never wanted to avoid your conversation.

you see yourself in my eyes.
another day has passed us by.
the more time i spend,
the less i see of you.

i’ll never take it back
your voice is like an angel
guiding over every move i make
i’ll never want it back
the direction that you’ve gave me.
nothing can replace what i gained.

you see yourself in my eyes.
another day has passed us by.
the more time i spend,
the less i see of you.

time grabs me by the shoulders.
no one knows how it feels to move over.
i know i’m still far from you
and it feels like i’m still far from home.

my is a dissapointment
i only dissapoint myself
if only i could hold this moment
kept away from everyone else(sing this verse twice)

please don’t change,
i know i made mistakes.
it’s been this way a hundred times,
your getting old and so am i.
please don’t change(3)

time grabs me by the shoulders.
no one knows how it feels to move over.
i know i’m still far from you
and it feels like i’m still far from her

my name is a dissapointment
i only dissapoint myself
if only i could hold this moment
kept away from everyone else(sing this verse twice)

Using a special code he accessed his mind
In search of the reason why
In passion and fashion he began travelin’ time
3rd eye, 3rd eye, 3rd eye

The serpent approves
Then appears between Adam’s thighs
And he tries 2 release upon Eve the nectar
The injector tries
He tries, he tries, he tries

So abduction complete
All stand on their feet
Look at one another and cry

What have we done?
Could this be the fun
On the dotted line 4 which I did sign?
Oh yeah

I resign from the notion
Cuz yours was the potion
That I’m supposed 2 die 4
I resign

In self-pity so dark
This shitty and stark
Realization is all that will soothe

Ultimately the only one
That can save U is U
Your God is inside and 4 that God U will do
Whatever it takes
If nothing else is true
The only one that can save U is U, yeah

my friends, my town – camaraderie we’ll never finish last we stood as one where are they now we grew up fast to young to know or really give a shit the past has left us worse for ware be strong and stand. stand up like a man your concept of friendship isn’t right third man in is how you show your care nothing else matters but the fight!

For those interested in higher knowledge
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And here now another KRS classic