Альбом Beanie Sigel

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..

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]

(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?

Chorus:
(Scratching)..."get down"
This Philly cat back with them blackmatics
Pop up with the gun in ya crib fa the fun of it
(Scratching)..."get down"
Two guns you know, desert eagle, streetsweepers
It..Its in the blood!..Mac Pain!....Click BOOM!

[Beanie]
I'll smack you in the grill or you'll feel the 45 harding
45 yards of football stitches, look ya'll bitches...(Black)
bullets in and out the same spot
turn you so skinny you can, in and out of rain drop
skinny like a smoker in and out of cain spots
hook, drop, dry coke in and out the same pot
Mac with the block could hustle at any cause
ran through bricks like Nitsie Russel and Lady Boss
(man)..Tricky hustle, quick to bust you 380 toss
You cant escape hell, 357 with 8 shells
38 long six shots
get ya shit stopped, get ya clique got
get ya strip hot, you could get swat
you could get cops, niggaz get ya shit mopped
hit ya block with two semis and say gimme
lay everybody down on the ground and take plenty
this four pound make you lose pounds and get skinny

Chorus:
(Scratching)..."get down"
This Philly cat back with them blackmatics
Pop up with the gun in ya crib fa the fun of it
(Scratching)..."get down"
Two guns you know, desert eagle streetsweepers
It..Its in the blood!..Mac Pain!....Click BOOM!

[Beanie]
This Philly cat back on a mission, out the kitchen
back at it, playing with blackmatics
one Mac eleven, one seven
a line up four buck tears for one bredren
leave three basins of tears from one widow
50 cars back to back with stick-up windows
hollow points clap from Mac sittin' em in you
nurses gotta cut ya back getting out you
disable niggaz get staples and shit patch you
shift over ya liver and able to reroute you
leave you niggz tubes and cables to spit out through
you know the rules of engagement I gotta out you
(shit)...how you want it dog? We can gun it out
spit it out, have ya fucking stomach sitting out
dig this when the shits on, get gone
I'm rated PG, pull on-get gone

Chorus:
(Scratching)..."get down"
This Philly cat back with them blackmatics
Pop up with the gun in ya crib fa the fun of it
(Scratching)..."get down"
Two guns you know, desert eagle streetsweepers
It..Its in the blood!..Mac Pain!....Click BOOM!

[Beanie]
You know Sigel play with them eagles, niggaz don't get tagged
Throw bullets out them dirty birds like McNabb
Bunch of niggaz where ya corners at
Get a whop, take a quarter back, bring a half back you do the math black
Aint no warnin' black, when Im wearin' black...mask
Over the braids two nines like Warren Sapp
Bring prosperity back to the hood like Buck Jay
Turn ya block to slump day, who want gunplay?
All you niggaz pennies add up to one thing....my dollars
Hollows holla, first class trip to satan with flyer mileage
Guess who the pillot?..DOA Airlines, dead on arrival
Flatline you, no survivers they cant find you
Like Kennedy Jr. you kidding me Jr
You way out ya league
Slow up pump ya brakes shorty, I'm ya way out ya speed

Chorus:
(Scratching)..."get down"

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

(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...

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

(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]

[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]

[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]

(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]

(feat. Scarface)

"Oooh..."
I just hear mom praying, I just hear gran sayin...
"Somebody oughta just, reach out and, help me..."

[Verse 1]
Eight decades and four years and gran still kickin
Look at ma, still whippin
Still keep a strap, won't hesitate to give the kids whippins
Tryin to make it to heaven, still livin
Make a visit, stop by the weed spot grab a dub
I know grams gon' have me a grub
I hit the front door, smell aroma of her food cookin
My favorite, a pot of rice and her stewed chicken
Hit the basement, holla at Uncle Doc
Nephew, wit Snu kickin
Where dudes, what's your new mission
We bust it up he cold frontin
I know this nigga wanna hold somethin
I know grams upstairs preppin for church
Matchin up her hat, shoes, pocketbooks and skirts
I break her off some dubs, so she can go see the preacher man
Even though I know he false teachin, damn

[CHORUS:]
"Ooooh..."
All I hear is grams prayin, I keep hearin moms sayin, shit
"Somebody oughta just, reach out and, help me..."
That's all I hear is moms prayin, I keep hearin grams sayin...
"Somebody oughta just reach out and, help me..."

[Scarface]
Don't cry mama, your baby boy done weathered the storm
And I found peace right here in your arms
By the way, how you gettin along, huh?
I know it's been tough bearing the pain since daddy's been gone
But, all in all, you still stood tall and never shedded a tear
I'm thankin God you still here
Cause, only heaven knows all my heartaches and setbacks
Goin from a high school dropout to shovelin wet wax
I'm never gon' forget that, look in your eyes, (look in your eyes)
When you told me that my grandfather died
It was like nothing had happened, (naw) and I'm knowin that you miss him
But to accept death, is just the side of a good Christian
And I miss him, just words, and I lived it in life (lived it in life)
and I take it step by step, but I take it in Christ (take it in Christ)
Cuz I'm knowin I can't make it alone (uh, uh)
You told me not to buy you a new house because in heaven's your home
and as hurt as I was, I had to smile witcha
and thank God that we crossed paths cuz you one strong sister
and I'm never gon' forget ya
Heaven sent us an angel and the world gon' miss ya... mama

[CHORUS]

[Verse 3]
I'm in love with two women
The one that birth me
and the one that birth her
Know that you gotta hurt me
Before you hurt her or hurt her
Or hurt them or hurt we
I cursed see the worsest death
Beat you niggas to a thirsest breath
Off wit ya head niggas, fuck that all purpose vest
I'm ridin all out for Umi
Christian Caffer, though I follow the path of the sumi
What can I do but bow down and give offerings
For the lady with the softest skin
Keep picturin grams tuckin me in
Breakin me out of her change purse
Slash teacher, slash preacher, slash changed nurse
One woman, ten boys, seven daughters
Three story house wit no supporter
Damn, you wanna get your life in order
Words from the oldest boy of your youngest daughter

[CHORUS]

For the record y'all, uh-huh...
I know you hear me, for the record y'all...

[Beanie Sigel]
Dynasty album, track 16, listeners fret
I can't take back that sixteen
Shit the truth spoke, I gotta give the world true quotes
Can you feel it? I know the truth hurts
They say, "How can he disrespect his pop with harsh curses?"
Simple - harsh life, harsh verses
"I can't believe the mouth of this prick
He said put his mouth on his dick,"
I know we gotta talk bout that, I know you salt 'bout that
You on the tip like I don't like you
I got four kids, three baby mothers, I'm just like you
Sometimes I wanted to just fight you, shit
Swing on you - think I'm playin man, I'm just like you
I was a kid with a puzzle
with missing pieces tryin to put it together dawg, you put it together
You made me have to foot through the weather
in the storm with no raincoat
I don't only speak on me, I speak upon the kids in the same boat
Ridin the same water, same situation
Same fatherless daughter; I hate you, that's in your mind
Don't get caught up in the rhyme
You think I dissed you now, that I don't miss you now
Don't be a hater now, be glad I made it now
I know I probably rubbed you the wrong way
But fuck what the song say, for the record, check it

[Chorus: Rell]
Still got love for you, though you left me in the cold
To face this world alone, and make it on my own
I still got love for you, but I just can't fight the pain
It's so hard not to hate, but you grow up in a way

[Jay-Z]
I think you misunderstood me the first time..
Listen - that was my hurt in my heart talkin, along with the truth
I would thirst often as a youth cause of you the person
Moms nursin self-esteem issues
Round the house it's hard to find a clean tissue, minus her tears
To rewind this time I promise I minused my years
to the day to take the pain away
Seemed sunny outside, always rained on Jay
Pop you my umbrella, come help your son with the weather
Soon we come together like man and man and build
Play space, cards face up, I've come to deal
In order to get right we gotta deal with this wrong
And the pain I felt all my life you feel in the song
Your lack of warmth left a chill in the morn'
Your lack of love, left me loveless, and I'm of your breath
I'm your mind body and soul, your heart, your flesh
Your alcohol, your smoke, in results I'm a mess
And dad, still I love you no less dad
Hope you didn't think success would make me less mad
But not mad, just dissapointed - we wasted years
I swear to God, may you take me away from here
If you taught me anything
The one thing you taught me is to face my fears, coward
How could you let me grow without you?
Grind in this rap game, take dough without you?
Wear my Pro Keds close to the sole/soul without you?
Family pictures pose without you - why?
Why shouldn't I be mad?
Monster's parents seperated, Monster had his dad
These parents had they problems, he still came to the pad
He bought 'em new bikes, imagine what that felt like
Used to have to butt my head to go to sleep at night
Nigga you did me wrong but the love is strong, let's move on

[Chorus - 2X]

C'mon let's try this Guru..

[Beanie Sigel]
When I was five years old, I realized it was a road
But at the end, I ain't seen lots of pots of gold
I seen a long cell block, the box, the hold
Six hundred fenced in - some innocent, some rotten souls
Some men with men - stop it, whoa
I ain't runnin up in shit but a broad on her back
Tryin to cop a small hammer, move out like +Shawshank+
with +Redemptions+, I got my mind on revenges
They tryin to kill me at the same time keep me alive
I'm movin out like Adebisi on +Oz+
With my skully on tilt, two whacks in my palm
Posted up in the yard, everyday I think of pokin the guard
Throw a crack a nigga turnin me in
Tryin to crack a nigga turnin me thin
Food soakin in lard, news fools get opened in cards
with (??), in this prison life, what you livin like?

[Chorus]
Can you tell me what you live like?
Can you tell me what that bed like, what's that cell like?
What's livin in hell like? Tell me do you eat right?
Do you even sleep right?
Yo, tell me what your life like
Tell me do you sleep nights, tell me what that life like?
Gettin no kites like, no flicks like
Make you wanna quit life

[Beanie Sigel]
Them four letters is a motherfucker
That's forever like a motherfucker
Without a letter from a motherfucker?
It ain't even bout the cheddar from a motherfucker
Write a kite, some flicks from a motherfucker
Some drawers, some socks, some kicks from a motherfucker
I can't believe I'm doin this bid for you motherfuckers
I'm down for another joker case
I was dealt this hand, and I'ma play it with my poker face
On the block ready to POKE a face
I got an L goin around with a smokin case?
You steal the deoderant out of CVS, you locked for retail theft
I got it body half a block stolen DT vest
My rap sheet read three D abreast
Dangerous, duct tape daughters
I take to the street, like a duck take to water
Get your duck game in order
My bust game in order, I fluffs 'caine with water

[Chorus]

[Beanie Sigel]
That's fucked up, you bout to take your longest trip
and can't do shit, but suck it up, be strong and shit
Handcuffed, ankle to wrist, in back of the bus
Flashbacks of you back in the world
Can't fuck now you thinkin bout who in back of your girl
Got her ass up (kill this bitch) playin your crib
Thinkin bout who raisin your kids
Shit was all good a week ago, 'fore they came and raided your crib
6:30 in the morning, they kick your door in
Feds pour in, snatch you out your bed while you snorin
You unaware of what's goin on and
Come to find out, clients you had for years, turned to foreman
Told the law about the drops you make
How your clientele first started to escalate
Givin him keys to your crib, was your next mistake
At that dinner table, breakin out that extra plate
You can't turn a career addict off his coke habit
Put him on post with the toast that promote static
Back to the operation, they got you locked at the station
Fuck your back time, you worryin about what you facin
Heart racin, situation gettin scary
Old clients are showin up, at the preliminary
D.A. tryin to bury a nigga to Neveruary, 31st
God damn, that gotta hurt