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Tema: Beanie Sigel  (Pročitano 13237 puta)
06. Dec 2009, 04:13:33
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"Nothing Like It"

I'm just a picture in a frame
man, I paint word pictures on the canvas of life
but I don't control the colors

Yo, I'm ten steps ahead of niggas, that shit scary
sometimes I feel ahead of myself
I hear this voice in the back of my mind
like "Mac maintain, just grind, dog, better yourself"
So what I do?, I take heed and pick up the pace
can't explain it when I pick up my son & look at my face
I'm like a black rose growin' in the concrete crack in the pavement
there that voice go again "Mac practice for greatness,
get paid for them immaculate statements"
Keep thinkin of them hotlines, like a physic, I can't explain it
There's no pen when I write it, there's nothing like it..

God damn, what you want from me, what you want me to tell you huh?
Niggas thought that I would stutter huh, thought I was dumb

But I ain't used to use my mind, I used to just... use my 9
and run wild with my boys, in the streets wild with these wars
now the Qu'ran and 48 laws, they polish my floors
I'm moving niggas like puppets with no strings attached
It's nothin' for Beans, so you know it ain't a thing for Mac
to look in your eyes, see through your heart, know what you fearin'
pick you apart, like you niggas is transparent
(I see right through you niggas)
It's like Mac was born with advanced parents
I'm like the Sun shining at night,
imagine it dog, I know you wanna see me gradually fall
but I'm walkin on air, braking every gravity law
nothing like it...
I spit words that skip through air
let the words of a true thug hit your ear,
it change colors like blue blood when it hit the air
it's nothin' like it...

God damn, shit, I can't explain it
Fuck y'all niggas

I changed my whole life.. in about 9 months, just like sperm in a womb
these young niggas never learn 'til they doomed
try to tell them "you can burn young punk, without smelling the fuse"
make you shiver in the middle of June,
paintin' pictures so vivid, you can hang it up in your room
shine bright like a prism, displaying colors like Crayola
think of the prisons with straight soldiers
think about the niggas who fucked us and played over us
think about the mothers who suffered and prayed over us
Just look at the the picture I've painted, it's so perfect
open your eyes motherfuckers, you can't duck us
no survivors every soul shall suffer,
I'm loadin them revolvers every shell shall touch ya
I promise I'll light your ass with these mags, I'ma bust ya
God damn it's nothin' like it, I'm serious

can't explain how I write it..
IP sačuvana
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"Beanie (Mack Bitch)"

You know my name, bitch
Uhh.. yeah.. hold up
The streets gave me heat, and the Eagle was the thing that they gave me
It's the rap guerilla that still clap.. fucka
Yeah, guess who's back?

[Verse 1]
Mack, bitch - I move blocks and pounds
I move out with small blocks from towns
Move out with small glocks and pounds (uh-huh)
And I take everything to the table bag and rock it down
Fuck who watchin now; the neighbors, they in pocket now
Fuck you haters cop some pocket now
When it come to coke you cant outwit me, mine cheap
Bout to take over the city of Philly like John Street
Nigga ask all y'all fiends, they call me Chef Boyar-Beans
Beanie Crocker, cook coke proper
Right amount of flour siffin it up
Coke spots runnin by the hour shiftin it up
Graveyard shifts, move packs in bundles
Braveheart kids, use gats don't rumble
Gorilla niggaz goin ape in this concrete jungle
Banana clips'll make them monkeys humble

[Chorus]
BEANIEEEEEEEE! Sigel was the name that they gave me
BEANIEEEEEEEE! Sigel was the name that they gave me
BEANIEEE, BEANIEEE - Sigel was the name that they gave me
BEANIEEEEEEEE! Yeah, but guess who back

[Verse 2]
It's Mack, bitch - uh-huh, back in the mix or the scuffle
I'm in the hood with them chips like Ruffles
Boxman, Frito Lay, for that free dough boxin
You will lay, nigga I'm not playin
Listen, whether I make cash or take cash
I'm in the hood eatin with my dog like when we break-fast
B's on the hood and the wheel and the brake pad
Sheeit when I skate past, bitches shake ass
I sit four-thirty deep in wheels
You bout, four-thirty cheap in wheels - small Benz
Look at your small rims, small wheel, small grill
Big Beans, sittin in Bentley my heart peels
Zero to sixty so quickly how you want it? You can have it
Drop top, stick shift, automatic
Back wheels still smokin
64 still rolling, 3 wheel motion, it's ferocious

[Chorus]

[Verse 3]
Mack, aiyyo
On the low doe (shh!) the whole city is mine
I'm trying to flood the whole city with dimes (yeah)
I'm in the kitchen yeah, with that vision wear
Get them digits clear you can come and get them pigeons here
Niggaz talk about the crack game slowed up, BULLSHIT
You switch to hustle when the rap game showed up (uh-huh)
While you wastin your time spittin the rhymes
I'm gettin mine spittin them rhymes, but still pitchin them dimes
And the spot still sick with da grime
Glock 26 nigga but I'm sicker than nine
I'm live with the pound, small silencer calmin the sound
Stick with the seven, strickly smith with the seven (shit)
When I drop back and cock back
And pop that, I'm poppin for keeps -
I'm not gettin stopped in the streets
Imagine that a nigga tryin to rock Mack
Only nigga did it was Jay and he did it when I signed the contract

[Chorus - 2X]
IP sačuvana
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"So What You Saying"
(feat. Memphis Bleek)

[Chorus - Scratching w/ Background voice]

[Beanie Sigel]
Aiyyo Memph what's wrong with these niggas man?
These niggas ain't sayin shit man
These niggas on mute man
I'ma make you blind motherfuckers feel some real

Aiyyo the guc is here dog I'm back to work
I took time off a couple niggas had to get hurt
Due to the fact they wack and wasn't strapped
Packin they gat, now they layin' flat
In six in green (you know wut i mean?)
Man I need a new gat for that
Yo, I'm the coke copper plus the rock chopper
Down wit M. Bleek, the Marcy prock clocker
One wreck, the other destroy
And with that bullshit vest on, I'm killin' your boys
I don't play when it come to yae
I cop cook and collect my dough in one day
Book rock and collect my dough at one show
False looks, Memph let one go from the floor

[Memphis Bleek]
Yo, yo
Well I'm known to be the master in the M.C. field
Oh-oh got respect, oh-one I still
Tote guns to the show and then I jet wit a hoe
Bitch niggas want to front and get clapped
Get on the floor, clap a second time
And make sure I flat-line you
Let a whole round go, hit niggas behind you
See the gleam on the glock, know the beam on top
Get shot, popped, and drop, yo the team is the Roc
As I glance at Mack, a-k-a B-Sigel
Know we comin' with the macks and the extra Eagles
I'm not playin, you dudes know what I'm sayin'
I make a call to my dogs, them niggas comin' through sprayin'
What you sayin?

[Chorus]

[Sigel]
I'm puttin heads to beads, gun straight out the box
B-Sige, I put up all the roofs and glocks
I'm not playin, see these guns that I'm sprayin?
Twin sub oozies, can't budge or move me
Nickels stay chubby, smokers never choosy
Don't gotta yell up the block, they come to me
Packs with colorful tops just like coochies
New jacks with they pack they like, who he?
I'm not playin, knock them things off quick
Got game still think off shit
What you say?

[Bleek]
With a partner like Sigel, don't come a dime a dozen
We could be brothers, we better known as cousins
As we climbed the chart with who the fuck want what
My hood to your hood, we showed the world crew love
Who wanna play with that Roc-A-team?
Know that I tote that thing that knock sixteen
You walk around talkin' this and that
How I sound like Jay and all my records is wack
But when I dropped the LP, niggas thought it would fold
Thirty days later, Coming of Age went gold
What you sayin?

[Chorus]

[Sigel]
Now party people it's time for this question
No knock knock, who's that? who's there? or who is it?
It's the M-A-C-K
Yes the gun clapper, the duct tape, rope, black mask and kidnapper
The flow dope, the beats just blazin
Like Luther Vandrow says, yo 'I am so amazing and I've been waiting'
For a sucker to attack the cat with two gats
Yo Bleek, you got my back, show 'em how we do

[Bleek]
Yo, I fight fire with fire, I make crews retire
I spit 9 to 5 nines, Bleek for hire
Your crew murderize, see the guns that I'm bringin
In an all out battle, Bleek come out swingin'
Memph the type of nigga that'll spit off quick
Biggs push the Benz and we spin off quick
Take a sip of the Cris pour the Belvy with lime
Crack the Arma del Lope and then I'm goin for mine
So what you sayin?
IP sačuvana
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"I Don't Do Much"

Hmm, shit, I don't do much
Y'knawmean? Smoke weed, fuck bitches, huh
Get paper cuts from countin money...
I just be chillin, y'knawmean?
Menage trois, knawmean? Quadrupla trois...
Y'knawmean? Shit I don't do much
All that shit, what you expect man?

[Verse 1]
Yo, I don't do much, you know Mac stay sucker free
So please don't fuck with me
You don't really want war
You don't really want the heat from the four
You don't really wanna eat out a straw
Man you niggas is broke, y'all niggas aint got no cash
Man you niggas aint got no stash
Where your wheel and your rims?
Motherfucker look at the heel on your Timbs
Nigga your walk and your talk you niggas is ass
Shit, I don't do much, you know Mac, lay in the cut
In the 'telly somewhere layin a smut
Champelly, purple hayin it up
Front row A layin it up
Or in the kitchen prob'ly weighin it up
Or in a mission prob'ly sprayin shit up
Niggas playin too much
I try to chill but they be sayin too much
But you know they dont say it to me
They don't play wit me
You shit where you eat, you might as well lay in your pee

Shit, I don't do much
I don't do much
Shit, I don't do much
Y'knawmean? Fuck...
Fuck, I don't do much
I be chillin man, I don't know about y'all though
Shit I don't do much

[Verse 2]
I roll a L, go in the booth
Spark it up, start blowin the truth
I don't do much, I smoke weed, pop pills, sip water
Fuck it, keep it real, keep steel, give orders
Suckers, give out halves, squrrlies, y'all call it quarters
Youngun, take this eightball, cuz you take long
And please, don't make me use this eight long
Cuz you could get all six up in your acorn
And trust me...
Y'all don't want that
Y'all don't want Mac to snap on you cats
You don't really want no problems
You don't layin under your squatter
You don't want me fire bombin your house
You don't want me duct tapin your mouth
Better yet, pourin lye in your mouth
You don't want me smackin up your kids
You don't want me layin up in your trash
Poppin up, then I'm poppin your ass
Cuz you won't do shit

I don't do much
Shit, I don't do much
Y'knawmean, I just be chillin I be smokin man
I don't be thinkin about y'all niggas man (I don't do much)
Y'knawmean, I be chillin
Shit, I don't do much

[Verse 3]
I just chill up in the middle of the block
Watch my younguns make a killin on the block
Tell 'em watch trucks who be wheelin through the block
Get shot, get shucked with vans chillin on the block
Shit, I don't do much, I just chill and relax alot
I don't hustle, I just tax the block
Shit, I don't do much, I just roll out and play wit tools
That make you faggots obey the rules
Shit, y'all don't do much
But drink 40's, look dumb on the block
Damn near 40, still runnin from cops
Y'all don't do much
Y'all niggas aint stackin no cash
That shit you pack got a crack in yo' ass
Y'all don't give a fuck, y'all gon' get cuffed
And I'ma laugh when y'all get stuck
Shit, I don't do much

Heh, y'knawmean, y'knawmean?
I don't do much
I don't give a fuck man, smoke weed, get high
Fuck bitches, that's my biz (I don't do much)
Y'knawmean?
I don't do much
Y'knawmean four pound?
Shit, I don't do much
I don't do much
And I don't give a fuck
IP sačuvana
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"For My Niggaz"
(feat. Daz Dillinger)

Ayo! Light that shit the fuck up man!

[Daz]
Y'all niggas get ready to get high!

What we doin in here y'all, huh?
Everybody partyin, smokin, bullshittin
Drinkin, c'mon

[HOOK:]
This for my niggas on the east coast rollin
Tinted up Suburban, in the streets swervin
All my niggas in the street wit caine
Muh'fucka which street you claim? Put your glock up
This is for my niggas on the west coast bouncin
Six-four rollin, three wheel motion
All my dogs on the block just loc'n
Nigga put your rag up, playa put your flag up

[Verse 1]
B Mack in the mix again, I'm startin shit again
I'm in the club with the fifth again
West coast niggas sippin gin
East coast niggas Belvedere, cranberry nigga mix it in
I'm in the back where it's dark as hell
Shit you know me, VIP, nigga spark the L
And I come to roll a ounce or more, bounce wit whores
Shit all my niggas strapped what all the bouncers for
Whether deuce or Sig on Crenshaw Ave
I'ma, get them bitches, get that cash
I'ma, hit them switches, lift them spokes
I'ma, push that chicken, get that coke
I'ma, rock them dickies, Air Force Ones
Til the, feds come get me air out guns
From the, P H I LL Y, to the, L B C to C P T, uh

[HOOK]

[Verse 2]
I'm on the block til the pack get sold
Don't pack just roll
Hit L.A. like Shaq and Kob'
Nigga please, got trees Aculpulco gold
Got connects with the heat got the gats on hold
All my niggas vatos locos holmes ese's
SA's with SK's a fuck if the cops come holmes
That's right fuck coppers holmes
We bust choppers holmes
We on the block sent them choppers on
Twenty niggas wit they khaki's creased
That'll clap police, that sling crack on the back of streets
Or twenty niggas on the back of blocks
That sling caps and rocks, who won't hesitate to clap the cops
Whether I, push the truck to pick up clucks
To get they feathers knocked off, then they get dropped off
From pickin up bitches, hittin switches
St Ives to Ingbing I'ma do my thing, yo

[HOOK]

[Verse 3]
All my playas who rock tan trees and chuck tails
Say fuck they PD's and duck jail
Rock wife beaters with the plaided shirts
Only top button buttoned, ready to buck somethin
You fuckin wit a gangsta rookie
Don't gangsta lookie
Shoot up your feet make you gangsta boogie
Shoot up your jeep if you gangsta look me
What you think this sweet? What you eat, nigga gangsta cookies?
Call state to the Staples Center
The four quake'll put staples in ya
Nigga zip up your stomach
Rip up your younguns, make you pay to get 'em
That's how we play to get 'em, never pay for pigeons
Whether I, push the truck to pick up clucks
To get they feathers knocked off, then they get dropped off
From pickin up bitches, hittin switches
St Ives and Ingbing I'ma do my thing, yo

[HOOK 2X]

[Daz]
Yeah, (I make 'em walk)
Beanie Sigel and that nigga Daz Dillinger (and Kurupt)
Dogg Pound Roc La Familia (Dogg Pound)
For life, do it like that, put your hands up!
(Kurupt)
Make them switches bounce nigga
California put your hands up nigga
Jump over the moon, I wanna hear the gate start to twitchin nigga
Don't play no games fool
And walk on 'em, yeah, and walk on 'em
Uh, and make 'em walk, yeah, my nigga Beans...
Bouncin, bouncin...
IP sačuvana
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"Watch Your Bitches"

As far back as I can remember I always wanted to be was a gangster...
(Watch your bitches!)

[Verse 1]
Hey yo I walks like a pimp, talks like a mack
Spit lobster and shrimp, you could tell by the hat
Gators and flavors, colors like now & laters
Split champagne wishes to bitches, trips to Vegas
Jot down numbers on small pieces of paper
I got ya, skate, watch these bitches catch the vapors
Breaks down doe over a hoe?
Spend my chips over a trick?
I don't rock no masquino shit
I don't know know labeled me no trick
Biatch! You should pay me for dick
All I'm gone do is fuck you crazy
Bust a couple nuts, get lazy
Bust another nut, it's Swayze
Tell your ass don't page me, see you when I see you
You need doe for what? Wouldn't wanna be you
Yeah I'm a break you off, after I stroke you off
When I break you off, biatch! That's when I broke you off
Tell your ass get lost
Only thing I'm gonna pay for, is to be the boss
Can't see me giving no skee's my cheese
Tell 'em like they tell Bean's, I got four seeds to feed
Till I fuck you and some change fall out of your ass (watch your bitches!)
Biatch! Ain't nothing changed, I'm all about the cash

[Chorus: repeat 2X]
Hey yo I walks like a pimp, talks like a mack
Spit lobster and shrimp, you could tell by the hat
Gators and flavors, colors like now & laters (watch your bitches!)
Leave you jelly like fishes
Niggas watch your bitches

[Verse 2]
You know Mack pop fly bitch
No Jonny Gill 'round my bitch
Bye Bye bitch
Fuck that red dress on, get a head step on
Speed on 'for you get peed on
When I piss, I don't miss (Shit)
Get mad, scratch your ass, and get glad
'For I, scratch your ass and get Glad-bags
Throw your shit out on the trash
B-Mack, pimp-slash
Hustla, muthafucka!
But, back to the sript
When I'm twisted off that sip
You know my twist, Mack on that lick
On that super hero juice but could handle my cake
Quick to throw bags, zams, and cakes
Cocktails come banana and grape
Yellow and purple, everything mellow in your circle
Feeling like metal can't hurt you
Got that pro meth 'itch (Watch your bitches!)
Keep a hoe in check quick off that pro meth shit

[Chorus: repeat 2X]
Hey yo I walks like a pimp, talks like a mack
Spit lobster and shrimp, you could tell by the hat
Gators and flavors, colors like now & laters (watch your bitches!)
Leave you jelly like fishes
Niggas watch your bitches

[Verse 3]
I don't gotta play games and chase a hoe
Spend cheese, say please, and lace a hoe
Man, all my bitches know to SUCK me off and hit the door
Especially if I hit before, They know the rutine,
Dick to jaw, I don't give a bitch shit but game
And spit that like Rudy Raymoore
Man my whole squad play on tours
That's all we do is play on whores
That's up to you if you pay for yours
I might let 'em run around in the apartment
Just don't steal shit or spill shit on the carpet
You know the address, apartment 3F
Find you, fuck you, and flee, and my man Bleek next

[Chorus: repeat 2X]
Hey yo I walks like a pimp, talks like a mack
Spit lobster and shrimp, you could tell by the hat
Gators and flavors, colors like now & laters (watch your bitches!)
Leave you jelly like fishes
Niggas watch your bitches
IP sačuvana
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"Think It's A Game"
(feat. Jay-Z, Freeway, Lil Chris)

[Chorus: Saint Nick]
Think it's a game 'til them thangs come out
I bang out 'til your brains hang out..
.. cause you're fuckin with a gangsta nigga, a gangsta nigga
Think it's a game 'til them thangs come out
I bang out 'til your brains hang out..
.. cause you're fuckin with a gangsta nigga, a gangsta nigga

[Beanie Sigel]
It was a, full moon in the beginnin of March
Bout the end of Winter '74
The gangsta was born, introduced to sinnin and spinnin women
Cats with big hats slammin Cadillac doors
Who choosin hoes, you losin hoes, you niggaz loose witcha hoes
You motherfucker y'all ain't used to no hoes
Niggaz wanna LoJack, track your bitches, shack your bitches
I pimps up, smack my bitches
You wanna fuck trick your bitches
I duck flip my bitches, get that cash with that extra ass bitch
Plus I keep a gat at arm reach
You ain't no hustler youse a car thief, nigga where your car keys?
Crack topic, back block it
Thirty-one long black top it, you can't stop it, gat top it
Black Mack, black glock it, blast rocket
Sit your faggot-ass on your back pocket (bitch)
It's not a game, prick

[Chorus]

[Jay-Z]
Straight gangsta nigga.. uhh, uh-huh-UHH-UHH
Straight gangsta nigga.. yeah
They call me, Hov' the hustler, dough doubler
Drove customers crazy in the late 80's, early 90's
Now you can find me, girlie behind me, holdin my mink up
Ice pinkie ring in the air, drinkin my drink up
Top down, 'dro in the air, blowin that stink up
It's seldom that I smoke, but it helps my thinker
Makes me a, mathematician about my math
Get celebrity ass, I'm a statistician - rap with precision
Nigga, your hoe chose Hov', that's rapid division
Now divide yourself and slide
I, young Vito, voice of the young people
Mouthpiece for hustlers, ventriloquist for jugglers
Took it where few went, made a few cents
Don't call me Hov' no more, call me _The Blueprint_
Sold dope (and) sold crack (and) sold soap (and) sold rap (and)
bought Bentley's, bought 'em back, nigga can you buy that??

[Chorus]

[Freeway]
Purpose for man - worship Allah, then you die
Purpose of my gun - run in yo' shop and take pies
Purpose of my son - raise him to do the same
Clip blazin it through your brains
Strip, use it 'til it's burned out
Benz Coupes, Jags and trucks when we roll out
Man it ain't no lie, it's real as this four-five
And real as these five salaats, whether we Deen or not
Our kids gotta eat, red Beamer stops
where your connects gotta meet, interrupt your cop
Dependin on the dope size, we slide it from (?) size
With hammers with hollows you feel we follow we're both risin
They killed your cousin you strapped and you won't ride and
don't think cause I rap that I won't (?)
Play O-Dog in _Menace_ and drive-by men
Real gangsters keep a bitch in the wheel, workin the gas tank
Hoes on the strip, bringin that cash in

[Chorus]

[Lil Chris]
It's C the young gunner, they call me the boy wonder
Without that caped crusader, that cake is major, uhh
Nickel plate stay with it, except for in school
Metal detectors in school, for every last nickel get moved
Fucked every bad little bitch in the school
Good with math but I skipped it in school
Ankle to shop but I'm sick with them tools
Shit, that's why I'm kicked out of school
Fuck J's by da locker, come and holla, uhh
Out on my own, movin out with the chrome
And can't nobody take me out of that zone, not even A.I.
It ain't even a business, it's just the way I
get it consistantly, flip it until the day I'm gone
Scream beef any day and it's on
The same Chris dangerous with a eight in my palm
And been paid since the day I was born
But these lames think it's a game 'til them thangs is drawn, uhh

[Chorus]
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"Man's World"

[Sigel] It's a man's world
"This is a man's world!" -> [James Brown]
[Sigel] Bitch, uhh
"This is a man's world!" -> [James Brown]
[Sigel] Man's world prick, yeah
"This is a man's world!" -> [James Brown]
[Sigel] Man's world - all y'all little kids out there
[Sigel] run around with y'all little gats, man
"This is a man's world!" -> [James Brown]
[Sigel] Man's world - go to summer school nigga, get your G.E.D.

[Beanie Sigel]
Yeah, this a man's world pricks, no broads allowed
All my niggaz with that raw allowed
All my niggaz with they fours allowed
who won't hesitate to bang a nigga - right in between they brows
Let's roll, fuck them bitch-ass niggaz, wearin thongs and skirts
Tryin to catch 'em while they goin to work
Hit them niggaz on they job at they lunch break, make the pump quick
Leave 'em ump-slayed when the fuckin pump spray
I roll with a sick all-out squad
Ten deep, let's roll-out squad
Bring heat when it's cold outside
Mack stick to script and stick to street
Stick in clip and flip your Jeep
Got extended shit and different heat
Mack M-1 double now [bluk, bluk, bluk]
I'm knockin feathers out your bubble-down
Stop the blood claat cryin
Blood claats from the iron, you're dyin, no lyin

[Chorus: Beanie Sigel]
This a man world nigga, sit down you girl niggaz
"This is a man's world!" -> [James Brown]
Man, this a man world nigga, sit down you girl niggaz
"This is a man's world!" -> [James Brown]
This a man world nigga, man.. man..
"This is a man's world!" -> [James Brown]
This a man world nigga, FUCK what people think

[Beanie Sigel]
This a man's world bitch, all you whores bow down
It's B. Sig., I pimp like TA-DOW - peep game
I sling meth in vials, hit your kitchen cook your pies up
Bring the coke back in piles, I'm that (?) ..
.. oh yeah I almost forgot
Bitch, get a foot up your ass
if you don't get your foot on that ave and start lookin for cash
Just get mine right, your money like, don't make me come out there
I smacked you whore and get you done right there
Leave this imprint 'cross your forehead, from the moray
Bitch know my forte, I'm not for-play
Hit your block, let the glock four-play
Finger fuckin a trigger is not fore-play
One more time - I'm not for-play
It's a man's world - how it's supposed to go
Only the soldiers roll, you young like (?) though
I move like Sonny, but never backwards
Weave in and out of traffic, holdin that package
Weight don't get moved, it get pressed off the bench
Move through an alley and a hole in the fence
I see when you move you tense
It's a man's world nigga, sit down you girl niggaz
It's a man's world kiko, they shoulda told you from the get-go
that you fuckin with them South Philly sickos
Think it's all raps 'til them gats start to hit you
Black talons cripple, Operation Lockdown the town with them nickels
Dopeman, dopeman!
But peep it, I ain't goin to court
I bang people that be goin to court
And know people I ain't goin for shorts
Bring straight money, cake money
That tan coat, razor blade, straw plate money
That grab coke, never weigh to pay for it money
Grab toast laser hater break for it money
Shit, you think you fast? Run nigga, dumb nigga
Don't get your skin grafted up, chin tacked up
Fuck around, and get your men racked up
Whatchu think all the gats is for, you can't last a war
It's a man's world nigga, sit down you girl niggaz

[Chorus]
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"Gangsta, Gangsta"
(feat. Kurupt)

[Beanie Sigel]
(Yo) Who wanna fuck wit', the fat boy of the Roc?
(blldddttt) stick em, ha, another victim
Mac pullin' capers again
Fuck with that money paper then
Light as a rock, gonna light up the block
Don't believe in cases, goin all out
Paintin' faces, switch my picture, like tradin' places
For that money what?
Everybody hands up, or hands down money tucked
I flip the money trucks, money I don't give a fuck
Ay money, shut the fuck up
It's only a stickup
You don't stand a chance, give it quick up
You 'bout to turn into an ambulance pickup
Enough with the cocky stuff, fuck all that stocky stuff
Don't get smacked like a hockey puck
I ain't wit' that rocky stuff
I'm strapped got this gat (Blah blah blah blah)
What?

[Chorus: Kurupt and Beanie 2x]
Gangsta gangsta, tell me how you do it
It seems so simple, like there was nothing to it
One more time run through it, everybody hands up
Alright hands down money tucked

[Beanie Sigel]
I'm on fire like a molotov cocktail
I'm high off them cocktails
Dangerous gone broke, my aim is no joke
Duct taped, roped, strangle your folks
Box cut across the throat (nope)
Bang the four 'till it's broke
Prey on niggas in a circlular pattern
Catch you playin' craps, car in reverse
I'm circlin' back
Man I stay up in them dice games, fuck a ice chain
A Ice ring, I'm tryin' to come up on some nice change
Incase a nigga might swing, they gets a might thang
Pull out the right thang, show em it's a spike thang
Make you do the right thing, like a Spike Lee joint
Bang that pussy and his right knee joint
You get the sergeant and cap couldn't tell mack (freeze)
I'm like a rat dodgin' traps when it come to the cheeze
Backwards wrapped my trough
Wont hesitate to clap ya folks
I'm on tilt like a rapid (?)

[Chorus 2x]

[Beanie Sigel]
Back now nigga, all black down nigga
Mack now, loaded up wit' black towns nigga
Frontline, clap down, backround niggas
One nine clap crowns, and smack down niggas
Keep rope to hogtie you pork ass niggas
Stuffin' the boot to shoot hoops you sports ass nigga
Wouldn't shoot a game of pool
8-ball in the corner pocket, stop it
You niggas flippin' Guess jeans profit
Disrespectin' eskell, expectin' to sell
You got seeds in ya weed, disrespectin' the L
Don't got 20's on ya wheels disrespectin' the car
You burnin rubber and that squad, disrespectin the tar
You niggas wore ass backwards, 'vessinal gat
Same thing with your hustle, rustled and packed
The ball back on missions
Drop the east the mack more vicious
Back to snatch or crack off dishes

[Chorus 2x]
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"Tales Of A Hustler"
(feat. Sparks)

[Beanie:] Yeah Sparks in here, The Truth in here
[Sparks:] Yeah
[Beanie:] Yeah - Witness - Tales of a Hustler
[Sparks:] Im going to ride nigga
[Beanie:] Ya Know - This just the life we live uh, this just the life we lead
[Sparks:] Yeah Yeah Gangsta
[Beanie:] Tales tales
[Sparks:] Gangsta! Yeah
[Sparks:] Sugar coat

[Sparks]
Omillio Sparks the young gun
My life as an adolescent said I'll go through something
Other guys try to stand in my way like brick walls
So I kept guns in my palm like Mesiah scripts in Psalms
I should fear no man but God
So lord knows we could get it on
Guns baptized guys testing my pride
Clearing my conscience in the liquor store
With a fifth of Thunderbird but I be guzzling hard
Playing the corners with a washed up old-head
Chant tunes by the Whispers
Same corner where I banged at with niggaz
Cops drive by and grin on us
If they grabbed then
one of them nosey neighbors done snitched on us (Again?)
Hey this game juicy got me puffing looseys
Every two days interigated by the police
See, this life I live cost more than your Roley's money
It cost my homie Nook his whole life, ya heard me?
When he was here it was easy to love him like a brother
Now thats he's gone I find it difficult to talk to his mother
I mean - What do you say to a woman
That's just lost her only son to the game and the gun, except mami
"I'ma ride for him"
The look that she gave me "Like Sparks you got some nerve
Cause most of these niggas dont keep their words
Now I'm under pressure
And I cant even break that type of promise
and y'all niggas paint that picture
Risking your freedom
On the strength of memories of him
The time he made you laugh
The time he bust his gat when them other niggas ran
How real is that?
Omillio Sparks niggas holla back

[Beanie:] TALES - OF - A - HUSTLER

[Chorus: Sparks - repeat 2X]
In this life you not promised tommorow
So take the bitter with the sweet and maintain
In these vicious streets
Carry your heat and keep your mind on your money
Life's a gamble everybody got a number homie
TALES OF A HUSTLER

[Beanie]
I'm back to the block with it
Wait let me clear that up
I'm back to the blocks that you get when your block get it
Get hard with that hot water when the pot hit it
Get large with a little water when you pop wip it
I send hope to late scramblers
Sling coke to you late you scramblers
Go broke sling soap to you late night scramblers
No joke, I'm a crook, catch hooks broke, late night gamblers
Look - you loose limbs when fuck with him
That be I strapped and high
FBI all on back want to trap the guy
Got niggas in all black want to snatch my pies
Never that too many gats
Too many guns
Too many vest
Tough guys not to many left
Where they at?
Dead or locked behind bars in jail
I know I aint too far from hell
I'll spit the devil these bars in hell
Dog I been through it son
Look at my scars and tell
Catch Mac in a Chevy truck slightly tented
No excuses on who might be in it
You know passenger twisting backwoods
Slightly spinning
Crack the window the indo slightly scented
Splash of haze and hash lightly blented
Put the pressure on niggas who might be timid
Like, you got like a minute
To put the cash in this bag or ya ass just might be in it
In small piece, I'll snatch your family up
Start from tall nephews to your small nieces
Bitches

[Chorus]
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