Talk to me man
This ya boy Young Hova  yo turn the muh'f**kin noise up
We'll 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 it's ya boy Young Hov' chea
Kanye West on the track(whoo)Chi-Town what's goin on now
Can I talk to y'all for a minute Lemme talk to y'all for a
Minute
Just gimme a minute of ya time baby I don't want much (whoo )
Lemme talk to these muh'f**kas uhh
Guess who's bizack
You still smellin crack in my clothes
Don't make me have to relapse on these hoes
Take it back out to taxin them roads
When I was huggin it  niggaz couldn't 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 it's worth
That's right these niggaz can't f**k with me
I'm callin guts everytime drag my nuts everytime
Homey we make a great combination don't we
Me and the Face Mob everytime we face-off
Face it y'all  y'all niggaz playin basic ball
I'm on the block like I'm eight feet tall
Homey I'm in the drop with the AC on
That's why the streets embrace me dawg I'm so cool
Guess who's bizack
Back on the block with them O's
Face Mob, Mack Mittens and Hov'
Don't make me relapse
Back to the block with the four
Cause this street shit is all I know
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 who's bizack It's ya boy Face Mob
Started with an eightball gotta get this cake dawg
Give niggaz a break nah you know how the game go
F**k you think I slang fo' to go against the grain (no)
I'm out here to grind mo' rapped up in the paper chase
I wanna f**k a fine hoe and candy paint the 88
Don't got no wholesale cuz that ain't 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 that's 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 ain't 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
It's a new game doin lemme give ya the rules
Get outta line and I'ma give ya the blues
It's a new game doin  lemme give ya the rules
Get outta line and I'ma give ya the blues whoa
Guess who's bizack
The warm B Mizack a k a Mr Crack-A-Brick
Turn a homer from a half a brick look I mastered this
You can smell it once the plastic rips
A hot plate'll make ya swell up if ya gas get clicked
You can make ya chips swell up ya don't hafta pitch
Play them corners like a safety watch the traffic switch
Young'n never pump fake and you'll 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 f**kin with them crack addicts
Still bustin with that black-matic
Guess who's bizack
Back on the block with them O's
Face Mob, Mack Mittens and Hov'
Don't make me relapse
Back to the block with the four
Cause this street shit is all I know