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Interpret:
Scarface
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| Guess Woh S Back
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[Jay-Z talking]
Talk to me man...
This ya boy Young Hova, yo turn the muhfuckin noise up
Well get right into the proceedings this evening
Headphones are distortin, bring it down a lil bit
Okay - now we workin wit it
The boy Face on the bassline, Face - Mob!
Welcome to New York City... its ya boy Young Hov chea
Kanye West on the track (whoo!) Chi-Town, whats goin on now?
Can I talk to yall for a minute? Lemme talk to yall for a minute
Just gimme a minute of ya time baby - I dont want much (whoo!)
Lemme talk to these muhfuckas, uhh
[Jay-Z]
Guess whos bizack?
You still smellin crack in my clothes
Dont make me have to relapse on these hoes
Take it back out to taxin them roads
When I was huggin it, niggaz couldnt do nuttin wit it
Straight from the oven wit it - came from the dirt
I emerged from it all without a stain on my shirt
You can blame my old earth, for the shit she instilled in me
Still with me, pain plus work
Shit she made me milk this game for all its worth
Thats right, these niggaz cant fuck with me
Im callin guts everytime, drag my nuts everytime
Homey, we make a great combination dont we?
Me and the Face Mob, everytime we face-off
Face it yall, yall niggaz playin basic ball
Im on the block like Im eight feet tall
Homey, Im in the drop with the AC on
Thats why the, streets embrace me dawg, Im so cool!
[Hook]
Guess whos bizack?
Back on the block with the old Face Mob
Mack Mittens and Hov
Dont make me relapse
Back to the block with the fo
Cuz this street shit is all I know
[Scarface]
From the womb to the tomb - a hot pot of joy and a spoon
Tryna make me forty thousand and move
Motels, star-studded, rock stars and goons
Plain clothes wanna run in my room (whooooo...)
But nigga guess whos bizack? Its ya boy Face Mob
Started with an eightball, gotta get this cake dawg
Give niggaz a break, nah, you know how the game go
Fuck you think I slang fo, to go against the grain (no)
Im out here to grind mo, rapped up in the paper chase
I wanna fuck a fine hoe and candy paint the 88
Dont got no wholesale, cuz that aint how I wanna run it
Here take these five stones and bring a nigga back a hundred
Gotta see my feet dude, you do shit a fiend do
The fire get too hot in the kitchen, I hit the streets fool
Money is an issue - and thats on the fa shizzle my nizzle
Ya block warm, then I come by with the fizzle
And make fa sho I get to work mines, for part of the time
We go to war and you aint makin a dime (ha ha!)
Cuz I got, shit to lose - a nigga out here payin his dues
My baby walkin gotta get him some shoes
Its a new game doin, lemme give ya the rules
Get outta line and Ima give ya the blues
Its a new game doin, lemme give ya the rules
Get outta line and Ima give ya the blues, whoa!
[Beanie Sigel]
Guess whos bizack?
The boy B. Mizack - a.k.a. Mr. Crack-A-Brick
Turn a whole one from a half a brick, look I mastered this
You can smell it once the plastic rips
A hot platell make ya swell up if ya gasket clicked
You can make ya chips swell up, ya dont hafta pitch
Play them corners like a safety, watch the traffic switch
Youngn never pump fake, and youll get past the blitz
And keep ya whole hood on flip - like on box-spring
Pissy Mack and shit, low old box of things
Strictly glassy shit - I hug the block like a quart of water
Shit I used to hug a corner like a old deuce and a quarter
Till like deuce in the mornin, with the old heads
Slangin loose quarters, this Philly cat back gatted (had it)
Still fuckin with them crack addicts
Still bustin with that black-matic
[Hook]
*whistling till fade*
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Eingetragen |
14.Jul.2002 21:07:14 |
Letzer Aufruf |
01.Jan.1970 01:01:00 |
Besucher |
147 |
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