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[Featuring: Jim Jones, Snoop Dogg, Nas, T.I. & many others] |
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[Jim Jones Intro] |
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Uh huh... Jones, Dipset... Byrdgang, bitch |
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You know what it is |
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When you see me two twelvin you homie |
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You bitch niggaz keep triple ninin, have some integrity, bitch |
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[Jim Jones] |
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BALLLLLIN' |
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Peace blood, peace almighty |
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We all thugs and we run the streets nightly |
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And get my lawyer, why? Cause I ain't coppin' out |
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And I fuck wit b-boys who bring them choppers out |
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One shot of that will have the boys bring the coppers out |
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And we ballin, for all the toys is what we hoppin out |
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My feary side, where we ride |
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And we all fly high in the Leer G5's |
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So, twist ya fingers up and bang, mufucka bang! |
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Get ya money up, this cane is what we fuckin slang! |
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And a 9 trey is what I fuckin' claim! |
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It's Dipset Capo the Don of the Byrdgang! |
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[Snoop Dogg] |
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They call the D-O-Dub... wasn't really trippin cause |
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21, 20 crips and all of us is crippin, cuz |
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We from a different street, all got that different heat |
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But when we move the macs for Game, we on the same beat |
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So if you fuck with blood, then you fuck wit us |
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And we ain't bustin duds, watch out, cause we bustin slugs |
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We sure to stay in touch and clean your mess up |
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And if you from the West Coast, my nigga... w-w-w-w-WESTSIDE! |
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[Nas] |
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Game got at me about the remix, its an honor my nigga |
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I made rap, one blood, that say I'm signin wit Jigga |
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I got rappers gettin mad at me |
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I got these new jack rappers tryin to clap at me |
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I got these corny wannabe, diss-song kings on the radio |
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Talkin bout how they gon spray, and take me away |
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But I'm the true living, legend, I'm not to be questioned |
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Have your whole hood holler shit about my progression |
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[T.I.] |
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You knowin my attitude shitty, only a buck fifty |
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So I keep the smitty's wit me, shit, how many wit me? |
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What, you scared? I'm prepared, in the MALL AND ALL! |
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Wit two two's, you can call me QUICK DRAW McGRAW! |
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Bitch, I'ma cut that fool, better CALL THE LAW! |
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I start sprayin, make fuck nigga FALL AND CRAWL! |
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I press play like Puff, no PAUSE AT ALL! |
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Choppin holes in ALL THE WALLS, that's ALL THEY SAW! |
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[The Game] |
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Hip-Hop ain't dead, it just took a couple shots |
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I bring it back to life, give it a couple shots |
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The kings comin, no, I'm not Jay-Z |
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Too many niggaz hate me, but they scared to face me |
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This ain't a movie dog, no, not Waist Deep |
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I'm not an actor, but I'll show your bitch Big Meek |
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She givin one blood, one love, on dubs |
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140 thousand the first week... UHHH! |
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[Fat Joe] |
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All these niggaz wanna front trill with them stiff faces |
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Till them niggaz lyin still up in stiff cases |
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Within styrofome... and embalmin fluid |
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I been gone too long and I'm down to lose it |
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Somebody go and get this nigga a pine box |
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And I ain't just talkin about a measly nine shots |
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Yeah I'm chopper happy and my wrist loose |
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Call me Goldie, I'll smack your bitch too! |
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[Lil' Wayne] |
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504 gangsta, New Orleans soldier |
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Bangin underwater, fuck around and soak ya |
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Louisiana gunner, I'm bout my holster |
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And if you gettin greasy, I'm an ulcer |
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I'm bickin back, bein bool on the Eastside |
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Or New Orleans where the bloods at the bee hive |
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Ain't nothin sweet unless its presidential |
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Cause that is where I sleep, now give me my key! |
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[N.O.R.E.] |
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New York get the blood money, dirty cash - still sweet |
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We will black wall street by the swapmeet with heat |
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Def Jam, they gonna flop him and Reggaeton ain't hot in |
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The building no more... It's OKAY! I GET IT POPPIN! |
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Back to the forest trees for deep, these little me's |
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Who took believers an opportunity to breathe |
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And you ain't gotta go overseas to see our rap shit |
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You can come to left, round Queens and get jacked quick |
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[Jadakiss & Styles P] |
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(One blood) we used to the spillin |
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(Came from the hood) so we used to the killin |
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Used to the black males (makin cracksales in the buildin) |
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(How else you get the benz) with the suede on the ceiling? |
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(Blood in) blood out (me and homie) back to back |
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(Both loaded workin) we about to pitch a (shut out) |
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I'm New York's king, (I'm New York's hardest nigga) |
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Anything in between's a (motherfuckin' target, nigga) |
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D-B-(L-O-)C-K, (he spray) |
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The hawk'll find a nice home (right where your cheeks stay) |
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We got a mean team, (Hip-Hop dream team) |
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Them boys is only in the projects on (green screen) |
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Yeah, no security, (I'll put you on the respirator) |
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I'm the bomb, (I'm the mothafuckin detonator) |
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One (dutch), one (bud), one (burner), one (slug) |
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Want a couple casualties, but we'll settle for just (one blood) |
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[Fabolous] |
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WHAT IT LOOK LIKE? All I say at most |
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Shooters waitin on the word... JUST SAY IT LOS! |
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I let these niggaz live, yes, I saw 'em pull the plug |
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Havin goons pullin gloves, leave the room full of slugs |
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Catch me trafficin, on maroon colored dubs |
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Couple Africans, with balloons full of drugs |
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If they like me, tell 'em line up |
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While I sit behind team, point 'em out like a line up |
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[Juelz Santana] |
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Mic check, one two, one two, check |
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I'm strapped, you strapped, let's play two on two |
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Let's go, you're eyein us in the iron bus, BOOM! |
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Leak ya, two liters of red juice, hawaiian punch |
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So what you boys gon do to me? I'm born street |
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Your life's sweet, MTV's Laguna Beach (damn!) |
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Mama told me not to play with fire but |
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She never told me I would grow to be a liar |
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[Rick Ross] |
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One love to the gangs, but I'm in the thangs |
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Save the colors for the cars, see we kill for the fame (Ross) |
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The boss made it, yeah, we floss flagrant |
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Shame how I lost your life savings up in Las Vegas (Ross) |
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I'm a heavy better, I'm a heavy seller |
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Keep white in the office call it Jerry Heller |
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Lettin off a hundred rounds, let the barrel pick |
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And we gon sit here, wait for the derrelics |
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[Twista] |
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Bitch I got lords and gangstas, show me where them niggaz at |
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Chi got two six's and kings, show me where them killas at |
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Chi got them ballas and hustlers, show me where them figures at |
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Game, where them triggers at? Aim at them fitted caps! |
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He got the clips, I got the scope, let's get them choppers, nigga |
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He got the kush, I got the dope, let's get it poppin, nigga |
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Hurt him in that cherry six fo, shit ain't no stoppin, nigga |
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Hit him in the head and the body with a bullet |
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When I put him in the cemetary then I gotta holler out! |
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[Daz] |
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WHATTUP CUZ?!?! |
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[Kurupt] |
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Yeah rollin with two grips |
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Glock holdin on the hip, rollin wit two clips |
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Got two tiny locos ready to take trips |
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Shake and make trips, high stakes to take grips |
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But they know what's crackin cuz, cause as we huddle |
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They hold cards down, nigga, like spades and pinochle |
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West coast gang bang, riders erasin em |
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Got funny niggaz raisin up and riders replacin em, cuz! |
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[Daz Dillinger] |
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Draped in blue, notorious gangsta crew |
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RIP for niggaz who don't stay true |
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Deep down in the crevices, see the jets veteran |
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Dwellin in the land of the gang bang with fleshin |
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I'm legendary, yes, yes, a westcoaster |
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Throwin up two C's, wit two guns in my holster |
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I'm from Long Beach city, a crip next to Compton |
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Down wit my nigga Game, if you niggaz want problems |
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From the streets to the suites, anywhere we can meet |
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Delano to Compton, Slauson swat Meet |
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Worldwide, get swept away by the tide |
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By G's, and BG's, O.G's, its time to RIIIIDE! |
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[WC] |
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Who the rider, looter through the gutter mayne? |
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Trued up in them Carolina blue Hurricanes! |
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From the westside, strivin to dead em |
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Where them killers throw that third letter up |
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Like Raymond Washington and Tookie Williams |
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Blue jeans, blue strings, blowin blueberry green |
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Cadillac on blue D's and a blue T |
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Money thick as blue cheese, chunkin up the dub |
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What the west be without Snoop and Dub C and one blood? |
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[E-40] |
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The Bay Area, fuckers, we pop em |
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Open you up if you got a problem |
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Up top, born in Cali-forn-ia |
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Clean your clock, open your can of tuna |
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Make a choice to see the hell or it's heaven |
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Get your chest layed out wit the FM 57 |
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This ain't nothin to do with nobody |
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But in the Yay, there ain't nuttin to do but catch bodies |
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[Bun B] |
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I'm comin straight outta PAT, like Compton in all black |
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But when we say what it do, they never say holla back |
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Bun B, the uh, OG like '95 Air Max |
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Neon green outta fight club off a fair facts |
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Ask the hundreds, it's doable, I done done it |
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At the summit of rap and I'm watchin you haters plummit |
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Run to it or run from it, to Bun it don't differ |
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Wipe the streets with ya like you a swiffer as a gifter, one blood! |
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[Chamillionaire] |
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I'm the realest youngster thats breathin, and I don't gotta give a reason |
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Chamillionaire a millionaire, y'all competin to be competin! |
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My purpose is to get the cheese and as a purpose that should defeatin |
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So shut your mouth, have a seat and be quiet till I finish eatin |
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My label tells me I'm greedy, hoggin all the room on your tv |
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Like (Eric) they think its (Eazy), but it isnt easy believe me |
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Need to make a room in B.E. television if you wanna be me |
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Game said he made room for Jeezy, I had to make room for me, G! |
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[Slim Thug] |
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Its one blood if you blood or cuz |
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From that number one thug, its still one love |
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I rep my blue boy team but I do it for green |
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I do it for my folks, vice lords and kings |
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All us trappers, future rappers, standin out on the blocks |
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Tryna get up out the hood mayne, and stack 'em a knot |
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Put ya sets in the air, scream fuck the cops! |
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We gon rep for the hood mayne, like it or not! |
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[Young Dro] |
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My feed mashable, murders are catastrophical |
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Cars is improbable, I'm overcomin obstacles |
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Trappin, I made it logical, my topic is impossible |
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I got a partner named Shoe Strang, cause shorty real crossable |
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Shark meat to Papadough's, cars be tropical |
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All guns choppable, all blocks are mobbable |
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I am unstoppable, my calico is toxable |
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Lyrically diabolical, kushin' is now cigarable |
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[The Clipse] |
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Red rum, red rum (such power in the tongue) |
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Never in the wildest, (was he talkin to them) |
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Style on niggaz, (but feel it to the numb) |
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Japanese thread, (brought flavor to these bums) |
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Consider me the savior, (look what the lord gave ya) |
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My celebrated presence (like the return of Rayful) |
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Frolic in the snow, so playful |
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(And revivin the track) like we flowin through jumper cables |
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(What duo) you know (get XXL kudos) while coppin off Coolio |
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(Classic shit) we mastered this, (left for dead) I'm back, (I'm Lazareth) |
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[Ja Rule] |
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Shit, one trip, one blood, LA, New York |
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The Game, the Rule, one love, guns up |
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Hands down, can't touch, the flow is a bit much |
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The style, wanna keep up? I advise you to speed up |
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With money movin like coke, these days gotta re-up |
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G up, cop some heaters and dare a nigga to act up |
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You see us, in dual seaters and throw it up! |
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Its all hood, niggaz rep your sets if your cuz or (blood) |
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...Niggaz, we all bleed! These niggaz can't breathe |
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Only because the guns are drawn and aimed to part |
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Niggaz that got bullets with names on them! |
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Want em, come get 'em niggaz, y'all know where to get at me |
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Look at me, now pass me, maybe you can be half me |
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You bastards, I'm laughin, bullets stickin in family |
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Who sadly gets torn between one crip and one (blood) |
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Y'all niggaz know me, haha... yeah! |
