[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
Okay, here’s the story about my mom and dad
One was white
One was black
I bet you think you’re glad
I’m a half breed, my skin is fair yet tan
I don’t know what the hell I’m on
So 1, 2…1, 2, 3 SLAM!!!
Kinky hair when I wake up
Straight when I go to bed
My dad speaks jive talk to me, don’t know what he just said
My mother she’s a honkey
My dad’s Kentucky fried
I don’t know what the hell I’m on
So 1, 2…1, 2, 3 SLAM!!!
Back at home it’s black eyed peas with a pot roast on the side
It’s hot dogs on Friday nights
The chicken’s country fried
My dad says “Yo boy pass the peas!”
My mom says pass the squash
I need something to ease the pain
So I’ll go downtown and get some downers
Whoa, man, I’m a little bit slow
But I’ve got to get up somehow
Got no money
Just a good idea
Let me tell you how
I’ll steal my parents credit cards
Oh yes I’ll rip them off
I’ll go downtown to where dad works
And get myself some cocaine
Now I’m high, and I’m not shy
I’ll get it off my chest
My mom is white, she thinks she’s right
She thinks that she’s the best
My dad is just a negro, he’s not one to play golf
I don’t know what the hell I am
So 1, 2…1, 2, 3 SLAM!!! |
Verse One: Sheek Luchion
You on the circle line, what’s wrong? Ain’t your yacht out yet
ain’t you that Willie, Benz pushing, slash Melrose cat
Nigga please, in the Hills of Beverly, you find it’s heavenly
slingin’ dick to Pamela Anderson bitches daily
L.O.X., when we ball
it’s Pay-Per-View y’all
Straight movie
flee in the Z3 while woozy
Now gentlemen, do we have to get into some gangsta shit
for me to get paid on my song, y’all just get sprayed
Esta mointo; as a nail but on point though
I’ll blast up the loca
for skimming on my coca
L.O.X., in total control and power
and everything you see us with in videos be ours
You can’t afford it, so you playa hate I see your logic
my coat is $1500 keep your army in the closet
As long as L-O-X keeps giving you what you need
we gonna take it there nigga AS WE PROCEED
Chorus (Ma$e): 1, 2, 3, 4 (4X)
Verse Two: Jadakiss
Yo, you already know what I’m here for
therefore, L-O-X be the niggaz that I care for
Holding down this foundation, Mr. Jason
bald head, baby faced and I stay laced and
When you pay good, you play good, stay good
I’ma get this money while you fake thugs stay hood
Why wouldn’t I be stacking franks
15 in clip while you packing shanks
Iron swinger, hair triggers, Fed bidders
real niggaz, the lil’ kids still dig us
Next time be careful who you bring drama to
speaker phone in the Suburban with 6 monitors
Pad lock everything filled to the top
we ain’t gonna stop, we just gonna squeeze ’til you drop
Paniro, Luch, bounce in the coupe
with no trouble all my niggaz bubble like goose
Or geese, Nautica fleece it ain’t nothing
but now I can drop 25 on the piece
Butta Nats do it with whoever, who you kidding?
back to back like green on the other side of Clinton
Shock treatments for them cats who can’t freak it
we keep ’em dusted, that’s why they always try to leak it
But peep it, that weed shit, you can keep it
we trying to sell all the real units we can eat with
Verse Three: Styles Paniro
Fuck the cars and the clothes, sex and the bitch
homies that got life and niggaz that run thick
Like a pack of wolves with tools we all improve
chance I can drown I ain’t jumping in the pool
I ain’t a fool, you fucking with the Guineas and the Mouls
when the money’s making me hot, I move where it’s cool
My pigment is just a figment
you never see my ghost, move through the L-O-X triangle pyramid
This is for them cats that’s like “who’s the L.O.X.”
better float up to Yonkers nigga choose a block
Got Arabics, Ricans, Jews and Wops
drinking booze ’bout to drop, trying to lose the cops
Same shit, where you at say where you at
I got my first felony, holding my gat
And I been robbing cats, slinging my sacks
Styles P-A-N-I-R-O
BM Doub., see that thug, get that dough
We ain’t positive, but we ain’t negative
the cops got guns and they don’t like us where we live
Take notes, I’m smoking a roach, holding my toast
giving my quotes, to the shorties living with dope
You think it ain’t real, until you’re caged in and you can’t get a feel
we keep the rage in cuz we never made a mil.
So we blazin’ all the faggots on the hill
fuckin’ niggaz girls but they keep ’em on the pill
But dog wear your hat cuz the honey’s type ill
everything is real |
You must be crazy if you think I’m gonna be
Stickin’ around while you’re messin’ with somebody
Your shit’s at the door boy it’s time you made like a tree
Playtime is over and your ass is history
While you’re studying physical attraction
I been workin’ on your subtraction
One to the two, the three, the four
You better not come round here no more
I’ve learnt my lessons in the school of love
If you only cheat once boy that’s once too much
So do the math while I’m leavin’ you
Cos one plus one plus one, it ain’t two
You must be crazy boy who do you think you are
Treatin’ our love like some twisted menage a trois
I’ve done my homework and this time you’ve gone too far
These ain’t my panties and that ain’t my skanky bra
While you’re gettin’ your sex education
I’ll be smashin’ your new Playstation
One to the two, the three, the four
You better not come round here no more
I’ve learnt my lessons in the school of love
If you only cheat once boy that’s once too much
So do the math while I’m leavin’ you
Cos one plus one plus one, it ain’t two
I’ve learnt my lessons in the school of love
If you only cheat once boy that’s once too much
So do the math while I’m leavin’ you
Cos one plus one plus one, it ain’t two
(One, two)
You can’t do the dirty and expect me to stay
I got pride in myself and I won’t be played
So get gone, get gone, go on
Pack your bags and get the hell on
You can’t do the dirty and expect me to stay
I got pride in myself and I won’t be played
So get gone, get gone, go on
Pack your bags and get the hell on
I’ve learnt my lessons in the school of love
If you only cheat once boy that’s once too much
So do the math while I’m leavin’ you
Cos one plus one plus one, it ain’t two
I don’t want your car, or your crib, or ya bank account
You can keep your friends, and ya endz, cos I’m gettin’ out
I don’t want your phone, or ya bone, you can keep that stuff
I’ve had enough of your love, boy I’m playin’ rough |
from the bowery to the brimstone
i tried to find your heart
with drugs of initiation
the bottom of a barrel that drops
i understand your causes
sympathize the motivation
but all the details of this war
are just self-infatuation
and it’s 1 2 3
nothings for free
4 5 6
pick up the sticks and go home
manic blood runs thick my friend
are you looking for a clean escape
what’s left when the locks have all been broken
young children of authority
now how long can you be agile
dancing between the alter and the mercy seat
yeah now here’s a chance to make a choice
are you aware of the fire beneath your feet
1 2 3
nothings for free
4 5 6
pick up the sticks and go home
the basement lies within us
our fear comes through the door
now there’s nothing left between us
as the fear becomes a roar
once that wheel is in motion
don’t you lose what you have found
i’m talking about that burning wheel of tongues
everything that makes it go round and round
we’re all born in the devils scorn
they want to see you die
i’m asking you are you true
everything they say is a lie
it’s a lie
1 2 3
nothings for free
4 5 6
pick up the sticks and go
1 2 3
nothings for free
4 5 6
pick up the sticks and go
1 2 3
(we’re all born)
nothings for free
(in the devils scorn)
1 2 3
(we’re all born)
nothings for free
(in the devils scorn)
everything they say it’s a lie
(we’re all born)
it’s a lie now
(in the devils scorn)
everything they say it’s a lie
it’s a lie now
pick up the sticks
(pick up the sticks)
pick up the sticks
(pick up the sticks)
pick up the sticks
(pick up the sticks)
pick up the sticks
and go home
|
You niggaz don’t fuckin know me
Why the fuck y’all always lookin at me?
Pissed off cuz a bitch lookin at me
or cause one of yo’ niggaz got a lil luv for me
You don’t know me
Chorus (2x)
1 fuck a nigga fuck a nigga
2 slap a bitch fuck a bitch
3 you don’t know me why you fuckin with me
1 fuck a nigga fuck a nigga
2 slap a bitch fuck a bitch
3 you don’t know me you dont know me
I’m the piece of the puzzle that didn’t fit
I’m the reason why niggaz smack they bitch
I thought you wuz a playa so why the fuck you gon trick?
I’m the feelin in ya dick when ya piss and ya know you been burned
I’m the pain in ya face
when I punch the fuck out you talkin bout No Limit
When the fuck y’all gon learn?
I’m the feelin in the gangbanger heart when he know he been violated
but when he catch up with you in the middle of the night
the beef between you, let’s update it
you niggaz don’t know me
bitch I’m at No Limit money bitches fame
so what the fuck you gon show me?
I’m the stop sign on yo block that everybody run (run dat bitch)
you think you the man in yo house nigga ask yo bitch bout me
betta yet nigga ask yo son
Chorus
P told me he the wheels on the tank
betta yet the million dollars in the bank
Well I’m that lil screw that whole everything together and I never rust
I told you I gave you 1,052 grams
we kinda cool nigga but you betta weigh yo shit, I aint to be trust
I love to bust
I’m the lie in the mirror when you look and you think you kinda tight
I’m the tears in ya eyes when you find out the bitch on camera,
that’s ya wife
I’m the thought in ya mind when you see the nigga that snitched on you
I’m the shame in yo heart when all yo niggaz
found out you like bitches to piss on you
I’m the returns when ya tape don’t sell out
I’m the look in ya girl eyes
when Pokey see you bitch and knock you the fuck out
Chorus
You bitches don’t know me and will never know me nigga.
you know what? P right don’t be fuckin wit none of these niggaz out here.
fuck y’all.
I told you nigga, choose yo side you’re either foe or friend from now on nigga.
TSO for gamin ?? ?? ?? fuck y’all nigga.
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