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Yeah |
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1 - How many niggas that'll die for you |
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How many get a quiche like the pie, wit you |
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I ain't talkin' 'bout those that get high with you |
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Niggas know, if a red's on ya head, then they ride with you |
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How many niggas that'll die for you |
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How many get a quiche like the pie, wit you |
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I ain't talkin' 'bout those that get high with you |
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Niggas know, if a red's on ya head, then they ride with you |
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(Puff Daddy) |
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Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah |
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Well, I'mma ride for you, would you ride for me? |
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Well, I'mma die for you, would you die for me? |
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Obviously, we all know you type of cats |
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Let they man get struck, never strike back |
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Stay in the street, seven days a week |
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Shit get hot, you never blaze your heat |
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Stupid motherf**ker wanna play me sweet |
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So I keep 'em on his toes, that way he never sleeps |
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Bigger than the king and the Pope, sling no dope |
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Call me anything but broke |
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When it's on, I guarantee my team don't choke |
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Want a war, you niggas better bring yo' force |
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And when I say we won't quit, believe this shit |
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When I talk about a Benz, let you see the 6 |
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And when I'm talkin' to a ho, let you meet my bitch |
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When Puff talk, you niggas take heed to this |
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Repeat 1 |
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(Mase) |
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Yo, if you down to act, we came to scrap |
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We beef '89, still watch your back |
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A nigga smack me, I'mma smack 'em back |
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If it lead to the guns, then that be that |
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And lately, niggas that snake me, just make me |
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Wanna send 'em heat without AC |
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Thinks I'm sweet, taste me |
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How much you really want it? |
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Enough to put a mil' on it or your deal on it? |
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This year Cancun, guess who I'm going wit |
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My own niggas, see I pay my own trip |
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Make my own chips, I copped my own 6 |
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I knock my own shit, like I'm on my own dick |
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My day be short, need coke, raid the fort |
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I'm knocked by the cops, come blaze the court |
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And though niggas die for, go on the shelf |
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Disrespect and spend like a man below your belt |
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Me, I always had, so I never go for self |
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Had thousand dollar bills with Teddy Roosevelt |
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Better slow down, tellin' you now, put the dough down |
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Kick your door down, surround the block |
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Where you go now? |
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Fifty shots spit at you and that is not a whole round |
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Way I leave the furniture, think it was co-found |
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Here's the low-down, messin' with Mase gotta go down |
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What more could I say but hey, guess you niggas know now |
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Repeat 1 |
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(Lil' Kim) |
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Motherf**kin' right I'mma roll with my motherf**kin' dogs |
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Bitches ain't around when it's time to go to war |
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This shit here, nothing to f**k with |
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I'm the same bitch all ya'll wanna try ya'll luck with |
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Lil' Kim spread like syphilis |
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You think I'm pussy? |
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I dare you to stick your dick in this |
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Chrome 4-4, inconspicuous in the 6-0-0, shit's ridiculous |
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Speak when you're spoken to and only with permission |
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Like E.F. Hutton, when I talk, niggas listen |
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So don't ya'll be mad at me, 'cause I'm the Q to the B |
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To the motherf**kin' E-E |
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Copped my CD, now all ya'll wanna be me |
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See me on the TV, beds will dip in 3-D |
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Peep the CD, chromed out and phoned out |
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My shit is paid for, your shit is loaned out |
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I gets it on, money keep growin' |
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Ice fully glowin', plus I'm bad to the bone |
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In the danger zone, I hold my own when the pain is gone |
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Like a splinter I enter |
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So why should I throw my blows in those |
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Do a bit upstate and take the weight for your troubles |
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My nigga B.I.G, I'mma ride for |
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But it ain't too many niggas that I'd die for |
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Repeat 1 |
