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04.11.2003 |
1. | Niggaz (feat. DJ Clue, Joe Budden & Paul Cain) |
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6. | Chicks Skit |
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. . .
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(feat. DJ Clue, Joe Budden, Paul Cain)
[Intro - DJ Clue]
Yeah y'all
This the Triangle Offense
Ghetto Fab
Paul Cain, Joe Buddens
We all "Street Dreams"
At one time or another
Fast cars, cash
Money, hustlin...
C'mon y'all
Desert Storm
[Chorus - Paul Cain]
Some niggas thug, and some niggas is bitch
Some niggas'll rob, and some niggas'll pitch
Some niggas ain't got shit, some niggas rich
Some niggas do the time, and some live as a snitch
[Verse 1 - Paul Cain]
Now some niggas like to pull out and talk, some niggas pop off
Some niggas found they way to the top, some niggas got lost
Some niggas keep it thorough in jail, some niggas got soft
Some niggas ride hard top Coupe, I pull the top off
And quick to speed off on the jake
Quick to back, any nigga gettin money, come up off of the safe
Fuck the city, I'm extortin the state
I'm like O. from the "Wire", walk wit a sawed-off and a .8
When I was taught, never talk wit a snake
When you kill a nigga you love, you pay for the coffin and weight
Get you wrapped up, and tossed in a lake
If you can't get the whole pie, just take ya portion and skate
Don't fuck wit niggas, if they soft or they fake
Only jail cats, and niggas going back and forth to court could relate
Fuck wit me, and I'ma alter ya fate
Send some wolves after ya girl, I specialize in torture and rape
We in the game most dudes ain't built for
Cain talk the type of shit, niggas get killed for
Whatever it's gon' be, let it be, I ain't waistin a slug
And time is money, and when it come to mind, take it in blood, nigga
[Chorus - Fabolous]
Some niggas thug, and some niggas is bitch
Some niggas rob, and some niggas'll pitch
Some niggas ain't got nothin, some niggas rich
Some niggas do the time, and some live as a snitch
[Verse 2 - Fabolous]
These niggas act like, I ain't sling the clip at the last lane
And ran to the cops, to bring the tips of the last names (Nigga!)
Like I ain't bring the shipments, and past caine
And sticky that'll leave ya finger tips wit the grass stains (Nigga!)
Like I don't swing and zip through the fast lane
Would you believe, this ringer chipped me a fast Range (Nigga!)
Like I ain't sling on stips, till my past fame
And stacked it up, like the Pringle chips, when the cash came (Nigga!)
Like I ain't fling and dip, when the task came
I knew these niggas sing like pits, so I stash change
The singles chipped in my ass changed
But this player never pay for, them rings and whips, just to gas dance
I'm why you stay in touch wit ya writer
Even made you pick up ya pen, and start clutchin it tighter
I ain't much of a fighter
But I know, everything about rollin up, like a Dutch in a Spyder
My dope is much more than whiter
One hit'll have the fiends yellin out, they need crutches and lighters
The Fed's can't touch us indict us, and the hoes can't even get numbers
They wanna stay in touch, they could write us, nigga
[Chorus - Joe Budden]
Some niggas thug, and some niggas is bitch
Some niggas rob, and some niggas'll pitch
Some niggas ain't got shit, some niggas rich
Some niggas do the time, and some live as a snitch
[Verse 3 - Joe Budden]
Listen, listen, I lived that life, of click-clack life
The kidnap life, the kid's the wise, I did that twice!
You prolly see that through ya bitch ass eyes
Still I'm that nigga that you get at why
Man forget that they knew me, remeber me thug
I'm from that same block, rips snorkle on ja dip in a Lucy
'Member they back you down, when knives was out
.45 was out, scully ya eyes come out
But now could you hear nigga all in this place
That when you see him in the streets, you gettin all in his face
More you give a nigga, the more that he takes, and you wanna beef
Knowin I'm slower than do so, cause I got much more at stake
HUH!?... that's why I'm ignorin ya page
I can't respect you no more, you's a fraud and a snake
But you noticed that's the hate that I love
You see me eating off rat, that same feat you think you capable of
Don't get me worng, I would like to get it
But you acting like, I ain't blow my show money on a rifle fetish
And my pop's voluntarily, surrendered to the Fed's
This is the wrong time to fuck wit my head
I'm tryna tell you, friends are ya worst enemies
So if I make friends wit my worst enemies, that'll maybe even things out
But one in ya dome is easy, get it on if need be
Chrome for sheezy, please, DON'T believe me
[Chorus - Fabolous]
Some niggas thug, and some niggas is bitch
Some niggas'll rob, and some niggas'll pitch
Some niggas ain't got nothin, some niggas rich
. . .
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[ad-libs]
Uh, they call me G-H-E-T-T-O, nigga
Uh, uh, I'm back on that bullshit
Haha, who could fuck around? Huh? uh..
[verse]
I bet you look at things from a different perspective
When you see the size of the slugs, the fifth or the tech get
A couple'll lift a detective
And make sure the legs that he used to walked with is defective
All you niggas do is sit on blocks and jive
About who's the baddest bitch and if Pac's alive
Nigga, I'm in a aqua five
With a button that make the roof flip back like pocket knives
I can't knock ya drive, you feelin' like Rocky
Till you get a beatin' like he got in Rocky 5
The squad'll still hold toast, and get these bitches
To open they legs wider than a field goal post
Broke niggas don't wanna stand my grind so they knock it
Think my jeans got Mickey D's signs on my pockets
The hydro combined with, the chocolate have ya eyes
Lookin' like the tall dude who signed with the Rockets
The flow is so sick, sooner or later
These niggas gonna need barf bags bigger than golf bags
The coke get flew on planes monthly
And cops search me for weapons harder than they do in Hussein country
And any chick that get a view of the chain wit me
I guess that's what Jay meant by chain reactions
Bitch! It's nothin' to thumb off some notes
Fuck a dealer, I get 'em when they come off the boat, fucka
[ad-libs]
Yeah, Ghetto...
Fab, nigga, uh..
Uh, Street Family..
Uh, pay attention, y'all..
Please, uh, yeah..
You could love Fab, hate Fab, I don't care
Send ya clothes with the check or I don't wear
Uh huh, yeah..
Uh.. uh.. yeah..
Street Dreams the mixtape, uh huh.. yeah..
Uh, let's get this money, y'all..
Let's get this money, y'all..
Uh, uh, uhhh..
. . .
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... all because she like the way my benz rimmed up
. . .
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[Intro]
Yeah, yeah (haha) haha
Yeah, uh (uh-huh-uh)
Uh (uh-huh-uh)
Uh (uh-huh-uh) uh
[Verse 1]
Niggaz ain't gon' be happy till I click on a rage
Pick up a gauge, and it's my face, that they stick on front page
Gotta be careful, I could pull a thick of the age
Chick on the stage, and winde up, sick in a cage
When I come through, it's usually in Dickies that's beige
Pushing a "Eleanor", like I'm Nicholas Cage
And it's funny how a few bucks can
Get you put under a white sheet, like you in the Ku Klux Klan
It's Street Fam' for life, we ride to the death
We play hard dog, don't cry to the rest
I don't know you, please move to the left
Or stay here and get introduced to the tefs
I'm riding till the wheels come off it (yeah)
Grindin till a mil' come off it (yeah)
This is my plate, I eat every meal from off it
Why y'all try and steal crumbs off it, jump!
[Chorus]
(Now ride) Top down, chrome rims spinnin and
(Now ride) Gun cock, hollows in the clip now
(Now ride) Chop rocks, put it on a strip now
(Now ride) Y'all know Street Family gon' (ride)
(Now ride) Top down, chrome rims spinnin and
(Now ride) Gun cock, hollows in the clip now
(Now ride) Chop rocks, put it on a strip now
(Now ride) Y'all know Street Family gon' (ride)
[Verse 2]
Now when I spray wit the sauer, I gotta spend a day wit the lawyer
Worryin bout, who say that saw ya
Keep yay wit the oyers, two kids on the block
Like when Mourning and Mutumbo, used to play wit the Hoyas
I'ma boss, that you can never upstand
Or get a red dot on you, like a 7Up can
Some of y'all caught feelings from way back
Others waited till I came through, short willing the Maybach
But I'm still bucking like, five, duce, four, trey
Still tucking and letting the fo' spray
Still ducking where ever the po's lay
And still fucking, and making them hoes say, WHOA!
...And I know Fed's seen
The old school Chevy, with the dope head lean
Y'all love the way I R-I-D-E
Call my D.E., and put you on a R.I.P.T., ghetto
. . .
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Uh, I think y'all know by now it's F-A-B-O-L-O-U-S (uh, yeah)
I think y'all know by now it's ..
[Verse 1]
You ain't never seen a nigga this large (nah)
Motherfuck the house (nah), the nigga's garage is as big as the projs (yeah)
I move from city to city like a nigga at large (yeah)
This move is Billy D, but it's Jigga's da bars (woo)
Like you really gon' get me (uh huh)
You look hard, but on the inside you softer than a silicon titty (haha)
The chilla's wrong with me (uh)
You can look at the kid and see just how them Chinchillas gonna fit me (uh huh)
I strut through like I conceal a chrome with me (uh huh)
Pockets bulgin like I got some millions with me (yeah)
Any bitch that chill her jones with me
End up butt ass naked inside a Villa Horn with me (uh)
I got a ziplock the killer grown with me
I hit it as Bobby and let me fill up on Whitney (uh)
Justin will cry rivers like he feel I boned Britney (uh)
I really don't get me (uh), I really won't get me
YEAH!
[Chorus]
I think y'all know by now that I ain't nothin to be fucked with (yeah)
I think y'all know by now that I don't care 'bout who you fuck with (yeah)
I think hoes know by now that I'm that nigga they should bump with (yeah)
I think y'all know by now it's F-A-B-O-L-O-U-S
[Verse 2]
I'm often asked, HEY, ain't you that guy (uh)
There's no one else from head to ankle that fly (uh uh)
Who put slugs point blank through that guy (uh huh)
And there's nothin (uh huh) these dudes ain't do that I (uh), can't do at my
(uh)
earliest convenience (uh), your girlie ain't foreseen since (uh)
the feature with Lil' Mo, over 2 million people, I've reached with my little
flow (yeah)
They said sounded like the guy who's speech was a little slow (uh huh, uh huh)
Personally I think they was reachin a little dough
But now they callin just to get a feature so it'll blow (yeah)
I'm teachin my little bro
to stay on the grind and away from the leeches and little hoes
I'll lose the Black Star Power on broads (uh)
Even devil worshippers got up outta the God
I know all you cowards is hard
Your career's dead so I send flowers and cards
With our regards, nigga
[Chorus]
[Fabolous - talking]
Uh, uh, nigga
I think they know by now
Who the fuck I be
Uh, yeah, but um
[singing]
I'm with that S-T-R-E-E-T F-A-M-I-L-Y
Uh, for you non-spellin motherfuckers, Street Family
Yeah, uh, Brooklyn
Uh, fuck up, word to Brooklyn
. . .
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. . .
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(feat. Mike Shorey)
[Fabolous]
Yeah, Uh
I know I make you wanna leave the one you with
But I ain't Usher Raymond
I'm the kid that they rush to blamin'
For the crush they claimin'
Who can make em' blush the same when I ask
"What's my name?" and they yell
F-A-B, OHH!
You shouldn't of even brought her my direction
Unless she was handcuffed wit a order of protection, yeah
I'm talkin' wreckless now
Cause I'm the reason that your girlfriends are ya ex's now, nigga
[Mike Shorey]
I'm the fella that keep em yellin', and it's nothin to get em'
I don't sweat em', that's what I tell em'
And they quickly forget 'em, and I bet 'em
I get them to forget the day that they met 'em
And I let 'em cause I can spend 'em
And it's more then the denim
But I've been on the move, while you dudes be sleepin'
The coupe on 22's keepin shorty sneakin' in
She won't tell the truth she too used to creepin'
When Mike is in the booth it's the truth I'm speakin'
[Fabolous]
Any girl I gave it to, can't even go love another man
I give it to 'em like no other brother can
She say my man can barley move me
But boy you make me scream like a scary movie(ahhhhhhh)
On top of that, I'm smoother than the rest of the gangstas
And I proved that dude you messed with's a wanksta (Ohh)
Damn homie, ya girl is wit the Street Fam homie
And she ain't fuckin' wit you
[Mike Shorey]
It's a shame you lames
Can't even maintain ya dames
And it's insane the way that she gave me brain
My pimp game's the same don't forget the name
And when chicks peep the chain they just can't restrain
Shorty don't try to fake it, just up and face it
Ya time is bein' wasted and ya man's a basic
See it all in his faces, he's cheap and tasteless
But life is what you make it just watch the bracelet
[Fabolous]
Bet ya man can't do it like me
His veins don't pump pimp fluid like me
He's nowhere near or like me
And he probably think keepin' you in check
Is buyin' you a pair of Nike's
Why wouldn't I, get dome from her
When the digits on my checks look like phone numbers
Fuck it, you might as well tell that busta skiddaddle
Not even Cochran can help 'em win this custody battle (Yeah)
[Mike Shorey]
Catch me in the club, wit a case of bub
And a thick chick to rub, niggaz hate because
When they sit in the truck, they be quick to fuck
And I'm gettin' a nut, they just lick it up
I'm their favorite, plus the flow is dangerous
I don't aim to get shorties our relationships
But they crave the chips, how many the range can fit
She changed a bit, since I got the hang of it
[Fabolous Talking]
That's right, we got the hang of it
Mike Shorey, Fabolous
Street Family, Desert Storm
I know you hear us, but I wanna make you mine
. . .
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[Intro]
Haha, uh, uh, uh, uh
uh-huh-uh, uh, uh, uh-huh-uh
uh, uh, uh-huh-uh, uh, uh
Mida, allow me to introduce myself, I'm known as Faboloso
When it's time to slide, I'm known to grab the most hoes
When I climb inside, they known to grab me close though (yeah)
When it's time to ride, I'm known to grab the toast though
By the expression on these hotties grill (uhuh)
I can tell that wanna holla at somebody real (what up)
And I'm usually looking for somebody skilled (yeah)
Enough to make a nigga scream Ayayayo
Niggas get mad, cause I may slay they hoe
But I don't wanna let these AK strays go
Stop face fightin' me, like ya face frighten me
Besides, what I need wit another case fightin' me
Nigga what I need is a ounce of good cronic (yeah)
Unbelievable amounts of hypnotic (yaeh)
A shorty wit a ass that bounce like hydraulics (yeah)
. . .
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(feat. Joe Budden, Paul Cain)
[Intro - Joe Budden - talking]
Let me just make this statement
Loud and clear - Jersey's here
Hey, Ja, Joey
Triangle Offense do it like ... (whoa)
["what" - repeated in background]
[female voice: "yeah" - repeated]
[Verse 1 - Fabolous]
Maybe it's the dipped Jesuses
The twin Jesuses with diamonds in them, that's clear they break gooses
Maybe cause I'm in they roofless or the Hypno I put in they juices
I'm the "Joe Millionaire" of rap and one of these chicks
is gonna get picked and gonna get dicked
I'm all that and then some, y'all cats have been bums
That's pocket change, you call that an income?
Tell the way I walk that I'm doin my thing (uh huh)
A lot a niggaz talk but ain't doin a thing (uh uh)
Whatever come in the fall, I do in the spring
See I told y'all I'm doin my thing
And I'm winnin by a landslide, damn right
Don't you see the way they point at this man's ride
Now, look at here, I took it there
I'ma make this statement loud and clear - Brooklyn's here
[Chorus - Joe Budden (female voice - repeats "yeah" in background of Chorus)]
That fire, problems in the club, reach for that snub
Look dog it's on fire, that's when you turn it up
You wanna burn it up, come deal with them riders
Small one on my hip, when you hear the clip
You got to see fire, when it all hits the wire
We gonna light it on fire
[Break - Joe Budden]
We gonna do it like
We gonna do it like
(We gonna light it on fire)
Triangle Offense daddy
Cain (we gonna light it on fire)
I know you got somethin more
["yeah" - repeated]
Don't even hold back
Woo, we gonna do it like
Yeah get 'em
Uh, uh, uh
[Verse 2 - Paul Cain]
Here with the white and the Canary cross (yeah)
Bracelets to match, diamonds clear of floss
Convertible hard top in a Carrera Porsche (Cain)
I'm young but I'm damn near a boss
And of course your boy ride with a thing in the stash box
Quick to hit the button, even quicker to blast shots
Nobody gonna eat, 'less we see chips
This not even funny, not the way we freak chicks
My waiters make ladies see sick
I'm "So So Def" like a J.D. remix
I got enough whips to keep switchin up flavors
Drafted outta high school, straight into the majors
These haters, fake smiles, but they hardly like me
They hate to see me in a party icy
Clean white T, sippin on Bacardi lightly
Suade low cut Force, one caramel nightly
[Chorus (female voice - "yeah" repeated through Chorus and into Break)]
[Break - Joe Budden]
We gonna light it on fire
Yeah, whoa
[Verse 3 - Joe Budden]
I got a ear for your amp it up with Jersey's answer
The chancellor standin up for ten minutes man
It's tough plan, plan that's what the camma does
And Jam's son it's the new King, done with the cameras
You pop lip like you got shit
That's a minor congestion you not sick
Now you wanna call names like Tupac did
Home boy here's a few glock clips
Still Junior like Lou Gossett
Joey right back on
overcharge New York to cut the lights back on
Peform Bloomberg to come get me all
I send the gools that make the bad things happen in city hall
All, K's spray cats, we don't play that
She allowed to sway why don't use say that (yeah)
Can't stop, won't stop, shots heard, one shot, gun shot
make your lungs stop, breathe easy
[Chorus]
[Break - Joe Budden - w/ ad libs]
We gonna light it on fire
We gonna light it on fire
[female voice - "yeah" - repeated]
We gonna light it on fire
We gonna light it on fire
. . .
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[Intro]
Uh uh uh
Yeah yeah yeah haha
[Verse 1: Fabolous]
I beep my horn and they come to the car
Damn right, they come to a stall
That's right, it come with the car
Now tell your boss, you cant come in tomorr
My dro come by the jar
They bring me drinks, why come by the bar?
Nah nigga I ain't come here to spar
These hallow tips will come where you are
I stomp through smooth with the soldiers
Two steppin and movin my shoulders
Now the money's rollin in
We got bottles lined up like bowlin pins
Mami, you standin with a slouch
Starin at me, while I'm standin on the couch
Come and get in the blue flames
Have a sip of this blue shit and lets rock!
[Chorus]
Now you know I don't usually do this
But you lookin good tonight
And you know I don't usually do this
But you gon smoke tonight
And you know I don't usually do this
But you gon drink tonight
And you know I don't usually do this
But you gon fuck tonight
[Verse 2: Fabolous]
Now.. Who's hot? Who's not?
I can take the few shots you've got
I can burn a few knots you've got
I can blow the few spots you've got
But, I chill, I will
Get it to poppin whenever I feel
I still shut it down
And I white and yellow stud it down
Watch them pretty girls strut it 'round
Take the birdies and putt it down
Like Tiger Woods did it, but I'm hood with it
You've never seen a thug look as good with it
And I promise that
Fuck with me, you better move where 'sama's at
You see I'm in here with the white ones on
Tryin to get fucked up 'for the lights come on (let's go)
. . .
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(feat. Paul Cain)
[Intro - Fabolous]
Uh, you think I give a fuck about what these niggas say man
They even talked about Jesus
[Fabolous]
I ain't mad at when it rain, cause I know the sun is somewhere shinin
Sorta like some clear diamonds
I hardly see my moms, but she know her son is somewhere grindin
Some where rhymin, or somewhere climbing
Out of a pottable 760, inclasable very sticky
Wit a handgun, to send these cowards to Heaven quickly
I ain't pussy, so I won't allow you to ever dick me
I know these greaseballs, wonder how could they ever stick me
But I move, like the President through town
Wit stones the size of earrings, in my Presidential crown
I put hollows from the Desert into clowns, cause the cemetary
Is where most of the dudes, that are hesitant are found
So I take the time, of whatever the bench throw
The 4BM put down, in a seventy-two inch hole
Mean while getting adapted, to the fame has be hectic
But I'm fucking like I'm tryna take down Chamberlain's record
And the girls more than like you, when you running run
Doing world tours like Michael, but girl's sure don't like you
You going on like thirty-six, flowin on some berry mix
The little money you get, you blowing on them dirty chicks
Tryna look young, so you throwing on the jersey quick
I'm on my second V-12, you going on ya thirty-six
You can look at this rider, and see I'm on the come-up
Cause I pass the hitch-hikers, like I don't see 'em with they thumb up
I just turn the system up and keep boppin
I never get, where I'm tryna go, if a nigga keep stoppin
And I tell the cops, this joint is for protection
Don't they see when I come through, how these people point in my direction
That's why I poke out my jeans, like my joint with a erection
Till I'm in a joint made for correction
And right now, the way rapper bi'ness spread
It wouldn't even surprise me, if one of these rappers is a Fed, nigga
[Paul Cain]
Since I'm in the position to get rich, I'ma get it
Whether it come from rapping on blocks, flipping and pitching
And fuck the stove, and the kitchen where I cook and prepare it
(Nigga you know) and don't try to act like the truth ain't apparent
I'm on a mission to get richer, it's as simple as that
I make it obvious, when I pick up a pencil and rap
Like a .40 Cal, spittin on instrumentals I clap!
And these verses, are like the hollow point I sent through yo back
I get you murdered if I think you a wrap
Cause if you don't show loyalty, then that show me where ya principles at
And you don't know how much I been through, in fact
I never did like you, I ain't even gon' pretend wit you cats
And I'm the nicest, I ain't gotta say it twice and repeat it
I'm a lyrical genius, I never been beated, defeated
I'ma draw my weapon and squeeze it, you better believe it
Leave you parapaligic, I demand respect and I mean it
My Desert's the meanest, you probably dead if you seen it
Or spored out somewhere sick, you get red on the cement
And I blow off ya head for no reason, and just when I'm leavin
You don't know me ya on me homie, but the spread make us even, BLOAW!
[Outro - Paul Cain]
And the bad part about it is man, haha
I'm only twenty years old man
And I'm just havin fun
Man I ain't even tryin man
Desert Storm's youngest, and in charge man
Paul Cain, man
Yo Fab man, you ain't even gotta go hard man
I got these niggas man
Clue! Holla at cha boy
Skatin Dolla
Duro! it's our year man
Desert Storm, we gon' kill niggas man
You already know what it is
It's a ho'cide man
. . .
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(feat. Paul Cain)
[Intro - Paul Cain]
Yeah, Desert Storm niggaz, Cain
Ghetto, I got these niggaz man (uh huh)
Clue! (yeah), I'm the first line of defense (yeah)
And I'ma show 'em what that means (yeah)
[Chorus 1 - Paul Cain]
I know these niggaz hoped I wouldn't make it - fuck you
Your hatred only made me wanna cake ya - fuck you
Wherever I see you nigga I'ma buck you
And put a hole in your chest that's big enough to drive a truck through
[Verse 1 - Paul Cain]
I bring the drama back where you lives, flatter your wiz
Reload and then point the Mag at your kids
So what I sound remorse, the records I still peep guns on me
But the difference now is only Deserts
If I talk it's gonna be reckless; I'm ready to die
So when I apply pressure, niggaz gon' respect it
Tote guns to rob niggaz, I told 'em to use
And leave enemies of friends that like broken and bruised
They ain't crazy, they just broke and confused; cross me
And they'll be talks of how they found the man smoked on the news
I'ma career crook - they used a mug shot from my graduation picture
And my junior high school yearbook
Paul Cain never appear shook
Yeah I might talk to my enemies but never police (nah)
You wanna converse it better be brief; you ain't gotta say much
Show me the money and the cheddar'll speak
If it ain't involvin bread, I ain't with it
I don't need D's on me, I'm already dodgin Feds
When the shots from the revolver spread
Duck, I don't discriminate, leave CEO's and artists dead
Make slugs a part of his head
Vanish then pop up in a SL double nickel, scarlet red
Fuck you I'm tryna get my cash right
All my niggaz flip birds and blast pipes, addicted to the fast life
Live everyday like my last night; OD'in or X
When I got signed like Len Bias on draft night (yeah)
Niggaz (uh), Street Dreams (yeah) (uh), (yeah)
[Chorus 2 - Fabolous]
I see ya faggot ass schemin - fuck you
Bitch you don't wanna swallow semen - fuck you
No you hate the way I'm "Street Dreamin" - fuck you
That's why I ridin, clappin, wit the .40 Cal screamin - fuck you
[Verse 2 - Fabolous]
When I pulled the 5 out; I kinda expected
For the backstabbers, to be standin behind me, wit they knives out
Then the Range, wit the fins drove in
I wasn't shocked to see my foes, dressed in friends clothin
But - I still pull through the sty; wit handguns
As big as the one, Robocop pulled from his thigh
You prolly heard about the bullets I buy; and how it look like
I'm throwin batteries, when the bullets shoot by
So what, you wear a vest, why would I care
If I aim for ya chest, that be a good idea
Nigga, it's nothing to clap ya; but I'm more worried
Bout the groupie cops, who wanna put they cuffs on a rappa
That's why I'm limpin off wit a freak; and a lawyer
Who woulda got O.J. Simpson off in a week
I could show you how to blow up on ya own; in a Benz
That'll hit a buck! and make the windows go up on they own
Wit a stash box compartment for; a handgun
That make holes the size of peep holes, on apartment doors
My closet look like department stores; and you wonder why
Ya girl's comin home, wit a cigar sip for
Cause I just dump the light Dutch, mash the guts
You won't believe how much ass I touch
Who else struts pass the sluts, and a chain wit so much
Ash and cuts, that it hangs much pass the nuts
That's why I get followed by broads; wit deeper throats
Then the people at the circus, that be swallowin swords
Y'all hopin that the Don fall off; but my money's long enough
To keep shootin ya bank until, ya arms fall off
I'm eatin, and I ain't have to use someone's utinsels
And when you clean as me, you know that every bum is against you
But please don't let someone convince you; to test the kid
And get hit wit slugs as long, as a No. 2 Pencil, fucka
. . .
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Yea, Its bout to get real hard for these niggas to move man
Somebody get these niggas some wheelchairs or somethin
Goin to war is still a scary issue
But in my hood they train to kill wit every pistol
Like they military issue
Guess you a star if you sell a million every disc two
Catch a gun case and bounce and still they'll barely frisk you
Cuz, I proved I move the retail
Make the smoothest grooves wit female
And I remove the rules on V12's
You aint never seen it move this smooth on sprewell's
I'm a hustler, you just a middle man to me
The way I pass the rock could make Jason Kidd a fan of me
Just cop one joint, I'm a one point somethin
Still I'll have you at gunpoint, with one joint dumpin
So watch what you say to them crackers
Ill put a couple G's on yer head like you play for the Packers
I'm rap's Labron James, I quickly see baskets
These scrubs wouldn't make it to the Mickey-D's classics
You got some sticky weed? Pass it
If not put it out, im pushin it before they put it out
Wit the dash, wooded out, Shaq O'Neal footed out
Blastin a (?) get it first, before they put it out, Clue!
Yea, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh
Maybe wouldn't be a million kids wit they faces on containers
If cops pursue the same way they chase us entertainers
In the hood, a few big faces and a chain a-
Get metal in ya mouth like braces and retainers
Even the young bucks be scheming on somebody change
Tryin a sell somebody 'cain, before they even potty trained
You can smooth talk your way into a hottie brain
Have her suckin long enough to leave a nigga body drained
I wasn't taught, I learned from watchin stupid people
That'll run up shootin, in front of a group of people
I lay in a cut, the same way the troopers peep you
Ride up on yer coupe and creep you while you let a groupie deep you
Cuz even if you reppin like a man of skill
You gon' still need a weapon when you layin a deal
One for watch you slippin like you steppin banana pills
Think a nigga ain't gon' pull a weapon cuz you scanned a mil? (what)
I crept in and got handed meals
Now the white and black rides look like salt and pepper on the bannon grill
Think I wouldn't hold a Pepsi in my hand for mils?
You must be fuckin stupid, nigga
. . .
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Featuring Mike Shorey & Lil'Mo
[Fabolous]
Baby girl
You know my situation
And sometimes I know you get impatient
But you don't put to on a show to get patience
Take it to court and go through litagations
And I respect ya gangsta
Treat you like a princess
And put something on your neck to thank ya
Shes my pinch hitta
When the startin lineup aint playin right
I come off the bench wit her
It might sound like im gassin ya
But it took time to get from the back seat to the passenger
We been creepin and sneakin
Just to keep it from leakin
We so deep in our freakin
That we don't sleep on the weekend
Wifey
A little bit uptight
Wonderin why he comin home in the middle of the night
It'll be alright if ya'll bump heads it'll be a fight
But i said it'll be alright
[Chorus - lil mo]
I really wanna be with you (be with you)
But I gotta be real with you (real with you)
I can't leave you alone (lone)
And I know I live and grown?
But i can't let ya go
Your the one i want in my life (want in my life)
Already got a wife (got a wife)
Can't leave you alone (lone)
And I know I live and grown?
But I can't let ya go
[Fabolous]
You aint ever step out of line
Or get out a pocket
So i made sure canary sent out your locket
To protect you, i'll get out and cock it
And you know the barrel of my gun is big enough to spit out a rocket
Oh, you gonna play dumb if cops do come through
I gotta keep the top up if my drop do come through
But i know the boutiques and the shops you run through
So i cop her one, and cop you one too
You always get a daily page, weekly ring
Plus you aint too shy to do them freaky things
I aint gotta put a band on your finger
I worry about you tellin the whole world im your new allen springer
At first you were somethin i denied
Something I would slide
Just do somethin in the ride
But shorty
Theres something that you provide
Cause the entre pain is good without somethin on the side
[Chorus - lil mo]
I really wanna be with you (be with you)
But I gotta be real with you (real with you)
I can't leave you alone (lone)
And I know I live and grown?
But i can't let ya go
Your the one i want in my life (want in my life)
Already got a wife (got a wife)
Can't leave you alone (lone)
And I know I live and grown?
But I can't let ya go
[Fabolous]
Uh oh, i might be leavin the earth soon
My girl gonna kill me if she smells the scent of your perfume
Its gonna be a clip towards if I go back
With stains of your lip gloss on my throwback
She wont care if im a platinum rapper
If she catch me with an empty magnum wrapper
So keep it on the down low call the carsely
You seen what happened with Mr. Big and R Kelly
[Lil Mo]
You know I get from you
Anytime this chick is there for you
Feelings im'ma share wit you
Which makes it a Lil Mo clear for you
[Chorus - lil mo]
I really wanna be with you (be with you)
But I gotta be real with you (real with you)
I can't leave you alone (lone)
And I know I live and grown?
But i can't let ya go
Your the one i want in my life (want in my life)
Already got a wife (got a wife)
Can't leave you alone (lone)
And I know I live and grown?
But I can't let ya go
. . .
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