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Talk to me man |
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This ya boy Young Hova, yo turn the muh'****in' noise up |
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We'll get right into the proceedings this evening |
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Headphones are distortin bring it down a lil' bit |
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Okay - now we workin wit' it |
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The boy Face on the bassline Face - Mob |
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Welcome to New York City it's ya boy Young Hov' chea |
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Kanye West on the track(whoo)Chi-Town what's goin on now |
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Can I talk to y'all for a minute Lemme talk to y'all for a |
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Minute |
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Just gimme a minute of ya time baby I don't want much (whoo ) |
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Lemme talk to these muh'****ers, uhh |
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Guess who's bizack |
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You still smellin crack in my clothes |
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Don't make me have to relapse on these hoes |
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Take it back out to taxin them roads |
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When I was huggin it, niggas couldn't do nuttin wit it |
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Straight from the oven wit it came from the dirt |
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I emerged from it all without a stain on my shirt |
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You can blame my old earth for the shit she instilled in me |
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Still with me pain plus work |
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**** she made me milk this game for all it's worth |
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That's right, these niggas can't **** with me |
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I'm callin guts everytime drag my nuts everytime |
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Homey we make a great combination don't we |
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Me and the Face Mob everytime we face-off |
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Face it, y'all niggas playin basic ball |
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I'm on the block like I'm eight feet tall |
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Homey I'm in the drop with the AC on |
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That's why the streets embrace me dawg I'm so cool |
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Guess who's bizack |
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Back on the block with them O's |
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Face Mob, Mack Mittens and Hov' |
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Don't make me relapse |
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Back to the block with the four |
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Cause this street shit is all I know |
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From the womb to the tomb a hot pot of joy and a spoon |
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Tryna make me forty thousand and move |
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Motels star-studded rock stars and goons |
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Plain clothes wanna run in my room (whooooo) |
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But b***h guess who's bizack, it's ya boy Face Mob |
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Started with an eightball gotta get this cake dawg |
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Give niggas a break, nah you know how the game go |
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**** you think I slang fo', to go against the grain (no) |
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I'm out here to grind mo' rapped up in the paper chase |
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I wanna **** a fine hoe and candy paint the 88 |
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Don't got no wholesale cuz that ain't how I wanna run it |
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Here take these five stones and bring a nigga back a hundred |
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Gotta see my feet dude, you do shit a fiend do |
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The fire get too hot in the kitchen I hit the streets fool |
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Money is an issue and that's on the fa' shizzle my nizzle |
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Ya block warm then I come by with the fizzle |
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And make fa' sho' I get to work mines for part of the time |
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We go to war and you ain't makin a dime (ha ha ) |
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Cuz I got shit to lose, a nigga out here payin his dues |
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My baby walkin gotta get him some shoes |
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It's a new game doin lemme give ya the rules |
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Get outta line and I'ma give ya the blues |
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It's a new game doin lemme give ya the rules |
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Get outta line and I'ma give ya the blues whoa |
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Guess who's bizack |
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The warm B Mizack a k a Mr Crack-A-Brick |
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Turn a homer from a half a brick look I mastered this |
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You can smell it once the plastic rips |
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A hot plate'll make ya swell up if ya gas get clicked |
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You can make ya chips swell up ya don't hafta pitch |
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Play them corners like a safety watch the traffic switch |
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Young'n never pump fake and you'll get past the blitz |
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And keep ya whole hood on flip like on box-spring |
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Pissy Mack and b***h low old box of things |
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Strictly glassy shit, I hug the block like a quart of water |
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B***h I used to hug a corner like a old deuce and a quarter |
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Till like deuce in the mornin with the old heads |
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Slangin loose quarters this Philly cat back gatted (had it) |
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Still ****ing with them crack addicts |
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Still bustin with that black-matic |
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Guess who's bizack |
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Back on the block with them O's |
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Face Mob, Mack Mittens and Hov' |
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Don't make me relapse |
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Back to the block with the four |
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Cause this street shit is all I know |
