Beanie Sigel Stop, Chill

New shit

WSUP!

WSUP!

WSUP!

[Beanie Mac]

Stop , chill , relax , and let this nigga Sigel flow

I know you can’t believe the flow , you can’t cope I flow dope

Like a key ya blow

You like naw , Beans , same nigga from 21st and Sigel street

When it’s beef people let them desert eagle speak

So whoever , wherever I don’t care where we meet

Stop , chill , don’t talk shit sideways outta your mouth

I will slap spit sideways outta your mouth

Bitch niggas talk indirect it don’t matter

When you got snitch niggas right in your set

That’s why I know where you niggas sling coke and pump D at

Same spot that you liable to see me at

Gun and a mask , one in the stash where the seed at

Stop , all my young bucks huggin the block

Stop puttin drugs in your sock

You makin it easy for the cops to catch you

They hooked to that stash and that trash and that bag of pretzels

You gotta hustle smarter than that

Cop coke harder than that , keep your dough apart from your crack

Keep a stash in the dark for the trap

Man you never know when the narks gon launch an attack

[HOOK x2]

Stop , I know you cats livin a lie

You niggas rats you aint willin to die

Chill , I spit it for my niggas keepin it street

Keepin they steel , all my niggas keepin it real

It’s still vex in the game tryin na earn respect

I got the best of out and y’all aint heard shit yet

You can shuffle up the cards I’ma learn the deck

When I do the game is mine , man I’m aimin high

Niggas talk about guns don’t be carryin none

Every two hammers I cock I’m buryin one

I’ma dress in all stash this year , whenever I’m near

>From the first junior , to Madison Square

Stop , chill , cuz I know y’all niggas like Mac fuckin that track

Let me show you somethin dog it aint nothin for Mac

It come all natural like I’m bustin my gat

Or I’m stuck in a spot crushin the crack

Got ice in a pot , fluffin the crack

Takin backs to the block so don’t stuff in them packs

Doin life on the Roc aint nothin fuckin with that

Me , jail , dog , you can put me under the ground

Where I’m from all my niggas they from under the ground

You can hear us when we come it’s a thunderous sound

Trees , stompin , Roc jeans and a bunch of white T troopers

Stay on post with they toast and they like to shoot you

Philly cats no rack , big guns and Sumas

[HOOK x2]

Beanie Sigel Gotta Have It

[Intro – Peedi Crack]

P., P. Crack Cocaine

B., B. Mack is back

Chad, Chad West on track

[Chorus 1 – Peedi Crack]

I Gotta Have It! Shot out to my b-boy Beans

And my S.P. chain gang, doin the damn thing

I Gotta Have It! Don’t forget my boogie with beam

That keep me in good health and kill ya, ya’mean?

[Verse 1 – Peedi Crack]

Chain gang, gang bang, let my middle finger hang

Ain’t nothin changed my name, P. Crack Cocaine (P. Crack Cocaine)

Relapse, I stay zapped, my urine ain’t clean

No one to blame but Peedi and a nigga I mean (nigga I mean)

Ten stacks, Crack come to the club and do the thing

You ain’t got that, I’m in the crib fixin my bricks

Style back, that’s the method-zine

About to get your four stressed

So I can whip back on the whole sixteenth

[Chorus 1]

[Verse 2 – Beanie Sigel]

B. Mack, seat back, S.P. intact

You see me with Crack, we strapped

What’s the reason for that? (What’s the reason for that?) (I Gotta Have It!)

I need that, that Philly-boy clap

Hit you niggas in your back, send the rest in your hat (send the rest in your hat)

Stay strapped with the mack, with the hoodie too tall stack

The aim all that, when I flame you get all that (you get all that)

Me Boy Mack fuck with cracks since tall cats (It’s the chain gang!)

Gang bang! I suggest ya’ll fall back

[Chorus 2 – Twista and Peedi Crack]

I Gotta Have It! Shot out to my boy B. Sige

And the S.P. chain gang for doin the damn thing

I Gotta Have It! Don’t forget the rrring rrring

That keep me in good health and kill ya, ya’mean?

[Verse 3 – Peedi Crack]

Chain gang, lickey with the ban

Quickly spit it rrring

Sickey Rickey get his ziggy bang

Snitchin on the gang (gang)

Don’t forget you get that Uncle Midi

Get him for his chain

Simply give him a chitty bang, sit him in a cling (cling)

No name, no blame, Mack 10 no aim

Hi-lo, rhino, put your body in pain

No play no games, ‘fore blow your brain

Bo range me after the show, you know of course I Gotta Have my…

[Chorus 1]

[Verse 4 – Beanie Sigel]

State Prop click and pop hit you niggas with the glock

Catch a nigga whippin in the kitchen cookin in the pot

Pursue it then might crack you (smack you), hit him with the glock

(When you hear that!) Then you know here come the cops

What up, wait, stop, fuck the cops!

Got the baby uzi whop, turn your cruiser to a drop (cruiser to a drop)

Get off the block ‘fore SWAT surround the spot

We be locked in a box, three hots and a cot (I can’t have it!)

[Chorus 2]

[Verse 5 – Twista]

The may-or of Chi, this ain’t even ain’t no kings and queens

Fixin to hurt from us when you jerk us, we Merciless like Ming

Twista and Beanie greedy like Peedi make the gun go rrring

When you look at the thing, give me the bling

Hand me the chain and the ring

Baller in the bubble, blowin bubble, always actin up

When trouble feel the double barrell of a double platnium thug

Clappin, ready for some action, and I’m going to empty the crib

I rep for the Roc and the State Property clique

Homey, you can’t do shit

Throw a finger up, give me love, Remi in the club

When they see these thug, in a circle, snort the 50s up

Range Rov, 24 inch, blacked out bulbs

Blows fast, but hit your ho slow with the soul pole

Creeping on niggas trying to test me in the black drop top

Pull up and let the booper go bop, bop-bop

Treat you, in the wind, to my borough, blowin on my back

And do the same to any nigga that’s tryna take what I got

I Can’t Have It!

[Outro – Peedi Crack]

It’s gettin’, it’s gettin’, it’s gettin’ kind of hectic

It’s gettin’, it’s gettin’, it’s gettin’ kind of hectic

It’s gettin’, it’s gettin’, it’s gettin’ kind of hectic

It’s gettin’, it’s gettin’, it’s gettin’ kind of hectic

Se pone, se pone, se pone muy dif­cil

Se pone, se pone, se pone muy dif­cil

Se pone, se pone, se pone muy dif­cil

Se pone, se pone, se pone muy dif­cil

Chain gang, gang bang

P., P., P., P. Crack Cocaine

B., B. Mack is back

Chad, Chad West on track

Now let’s go!

Beanie Sigel Think It’s A Game

[Chorus: Saint Nick]

Think it’s a game ’til them thangs come out

I bang out ’til your brains hang out..

.. cause you’re fuckin with a gangsta nigga, a gangsta nigga

Think it’s a game ’til them thangs come out

I bang out ’til your brains hang out..

.. cause you’re fuckin with a gangsta nigga, a gangsta nigga

[Beanie Sigel]

It was a, full moon in the beginnin of March

Bout the end of Winter ’74

The gangsta was born, introduced to sinnin and spinnin women

Cats with big hats slammin Cadillac doors

Who choosin hoes, you losin hoes, you niggaz loose witcha hoes

You motherfucker y’all ain’t used to no hoes

Niggaz wanna LoJack, track your bitches, shack your bitches

I pimps up, smack my bitches

You wanna fuck trick your bitches

I duck flip my bitches, get that cash with that extra ass bitch

Plus I keep a gat at arm reach

You ain’t no hustler youse a car thief, nigga where your car keys?

Crack topic, back block it

Thirty-one long black top it, you can’t stop it, gat top it

Black Mack, black glock it, blast rocket

Sit your faggot-ass on your back pocket (bitch)

It’s not a game, prick

[Chorus]

[Jay-Z]

Straight gangsta nigga.. uhh, uh-huh-UHH-UHH

Straight gangsta nigga.. yeah

They call me, Hov’ the hustler, dough doubler

Drove customers crazy in the late 80’s, early 90’s

Now you can find me, girlie behind me, holdin my mink up

Ice pinkie ring in the air, drinkin my drink up

Top down, ‘dro in the air, blowin that stink up

It’s seldom that I smoke, but it helps my thinker

Makes me a, mathematician about my math

Get celebrity ass, I’m a statistician – rap with precision

Nigga, your hoe chose Hov’, that’s rapid division

Now divide yourself and slide

I, young Vito, voice of the young people

Mouthpiece for hustlers, ventriloquist for jugglers

Took it where few went, made a few cents

Don’t call me Hov’ no more, call me _The Blueprint_

Sold dope (and) sold crack (and) sold soap (and) sold rap (and)

bought Bentley’s, bought ’em back, nigga can you buy that??

[Chorus]

[Freeway]

Purpose for man – worship Allah, then you die

Purpose of my gun – run in yo’ shop and take pies

Purpose of my son – raise him to do the same

Clip blazin it through your brains

Strip, use it ’til it’s burned out

Benz Coupes, Jags and trucks when we roll out

Man it ain’t no lie, it’s real as this four-five

And real as these five salaats, whether we Deen or not

Our kids gotta eat, red Beamer stops

where your connects gotta meet, interrupt your cop

Dependin on the dope size, we slide it from (?) size

With hammers with hollows you feel we follow we’re both risin

They killed your cousin you strapped and you won’t ride and

don’t think cause I rap that I won’t (?)

Play O-Dog in _Menace_ and drive-by men

Real gangsters keep a bitch in the wheel, workin the gas tank

Hoes on the strip, bringin that cash in

[Chorus]

[Lil Chris]

It’s C the young gunner, they call me the boy wonder

Without that caped crusader, that cake is major, uhh

Nickel plate stay with it, except for in school

Metal detectors in school, for every last nickel get moved

Fucked every bad little bitch in the school

Good with math but I skipped it in school

Ankle to shop but I’m sick with them tools

Shit, that’s why I’m kicked out of school

Fuck J’s by da locker, come and holla, uhh

Out on my own, movin out with the chrome

And can’t nobody take me out of that zone, not even A.I.

It ain’t even a business, it’s just the way I

get it consistantly, flip it until the day I’m gone

Scream beef any day and it’s on

The same Chris dangerous with a eight in my palm

And been paid since the day I was born

But these lames think it’s a game ’til them thangs is drawn, uhh

[Chorus]

Beanie Sigel I Don’t Do Much

Hmm, shit, I don’t do much

Y’knawmean? Smoke weed, fuck bitches, huh

Get paper cuts from countin money…

I just be chillin, y’knawmean?

Menage trois, knawmean? Quadrupla trois…

Y’knawmean? Shit I don’t do much

All that shit, what you expect man?

[Verse 1]

Yo, I don’t do much, you know Mac stay sucker free

So please don’t fuck with me

You don’t really want war

You don’t really want the heat from the four

You don’t really wanna eat out a straw

Man you niggas is broke, y’all niggas aint got no cash

Man you niggas aint got no stash

Where your wheel and your rims?

Motherfucker look at the heel on your Timbs

Nigga your walk and your talk you niggas is ass

Shit, I don’t do much, you know Mac, lay in the cut

In the ‘telly somewhere layin a smut

Champelly, purple hayin it up

Front row A layin it up

Or in the kitchen prob’ly weighin it up

Or in a mission prob’ly sprayin shit up

Niggas playin too much

I try to chill but they be sayin too much

But you know they dont say it to me

They don’t play wit me

You shit where you eat, you might as well lay in your pee

Shit, I don’t do much

I don’t do much

Shit, I don’t do much

Y’knawmean? Fuck…

Fuck, I don’t do much

I be chillin man, I don’t know about y’all though

Shit I don’t do much

[Verse 2]

I roll a L, go in the booth

Spark it up, start blowin the truth

I don’t do much, I smoke weed, pop pills, sip water

Fuck it, keep it real, keep steel, give orders

Suckers, give out halves, squrrlies, y’all call it quarters

Youngun, take this eightball, cuz you take long

And please, don’t make me use this eight long

Cuz you could get all six up in your acorn

And trust me…

Y’all don’t want that

Y’all don’t want Mac to snap on you cats

You don’t really want no problems

You don’t layin under your squatter

You don’t want me fire bombin your house

You don’t want me duct tapin your mouth

Better yet, pourin lye in your mouth

You don’t want me smackin up your kids

You don’t want me layin up in your trash

Poppin up, then I’m poppin your ass

Cuz you won’t do shit

I don’t do much

Shit, I don’t do much

Y’knawmean, I just be chillin I be smokin man

I don’t be thinkin about y’all niggas man (I don’t do much)

Y’knawmean, I be chillin

Shit, I don’t do much

[Verse 3]

I just chill up in the middle of the block

Watch my younguns make a killin on the block

Tell ’em watch trucks who be wheelin through the block

Get shot, get shucked with vans chillin on the block

Shit, I don’t do much, I just chill and relax alot

I don’t hustle, I just tax the block

Shit, I don’t do much, I just roll out and play wit tools

That make you faggots obey the rules

Shit, y’all don’t do much

But drink 40’s, look dumb on the block

Damn near 40, still runnin from cops

Y’all don’t do much

Y’all niggas aint stackin no cash

That shit you pack got a crack in yo’ ass

Y’all don’t give a fuck, y’all gon’ get cuffed

And I’ma laugh when y’all get stuck

Shit, I don’t do much

Heh, y’knawmean, y’knawmean?

I don’t do much

I don’t give a fuck man, smoke weed, get high

Fuck bitches, that’s my biz (I don’t do much)

Y’knawmean?

I don’t do much

Y’knawmean four pound?

Shit, I don’t do much

I don’t do much

And I don’t give a fuck

Beanie Sigel H.H.E.H.

Ay Lo, run to the fridge and pop that other bottle of Cris’ homey

I’m off the weed but I’m back on my juice nigga

Pour me up an ounce and a couple of th epurps

[Beanie Sigel:]

As I skate through the city in that black cuatro

You fake Willies frontin like you got dough until I prove ’em it’s not so

I shine like a brand new penny from that Franklin Mint

That black Masi’, it don’t make no cents/sense

But to drive and make dollars, your pockets flat like tires

Your money still ALL SLOW like new drivers

I pop more than the collar

You niggaz poppin cheap-ass bottles of Moet

That bullshit Chandon, that little chick on your arm be long gone

When she recognize a real don

I’m in the club in the cut sippin on aged grapes

Laughin at them brolic car thieves, in their slim-ass jeans and Bath’ Apes

Lookin half gay, halfway out of the closet

You don’t believe me, nigga ask Sway

What the fuck is that? You niggaz need to be slapped

Whoever co-signed bein a sucker wasn’t stacked

HHEH! [echoes]

HHEH! [echoes]

[Beanie Sigel:]

Uhh, sit back, relax, let’s rap for taste

Track 10 from the fits, peep my old head face

You see if real niggaz respect it, the squares gon’ rep it

I’m guessin, that’s why this bullshit keep progressin

But I ain’t stressin, nigga class in session

I’m here to teach you a lesson like KRS’n

“Criminal, Minded, you’ve been blinded”

Lookin for a nigga like Sig’, you won’t find it

I’m a dinosaur~! You niggaz more like

What I look for in a whore, heh, PUSSY!

Nuttin more, nuttin less, I’m nuttin to second guess

I’m him, point blank period, the end

When I’m long gone, they gon’ dig up my bones

And study my poems and learn I was MORE than the gun in the song

Even though I spit a gat

Quicker than I spit a rap, now go ‘head sonny, run along

HHEH! [echoes]

HHEH! [echoes]

[Beanie Sigel:]

Now when that sizzurp in my system, ain’t no tellin

Will I bust that four-fifth and, catch another felon’

I’m a thug by blood, not just off drugs

Even though I love, that purple mug

UHH, drunk off syrup, perks and zanees

Spit a word make a bird lose her skirt and her panties (and them panties)

I know it’s been a while, since I left a stain on your brain

Gave you some game that you can gain from

I’m here to end it now

Break the cycle of that bullshit same ol’ same, that these lames run

It’s a shame it’s they names where they came from

These niggaz fly-by-nights, they couldn’t fly my kite

Tie my shoes, lace my boots

They money run short, they couldn’t chase my loot

Paper small like Coupes, I’m that Sport sittin butter soft

He nothin but a boss – who? Me – Sig’, but of course

HHEH! [echoes]

HHEH! [echoes]

Beanie Sigel Man’s World

[Sigel] It’s a man’s world

“This is a man’s world!” -> [James Brown]

[Sigel] Bitch, uhh

“This is a man’s world!” -> [James Brown]

[Sigel] Man’s world prick, yeah

“This is a man’s world!” -> [James Brown]

[Sigel] Man’s world – all y’all little kids out there

[Sigel] run around with y’all little gats, man

“This is a man’s world!” -> [James Brown]

[Sigel] Man’s world – go to summer school nigga, get your G.E.D.

[Beanie Sigel]

Yeah, this a man’s world pricks, no broads allowed

All my niggaz with that raw allowed

All my niggaz with they fours allowed

who won’t hesitate to bang a nigga – right in between they brows

Let’s roll, fuck them bitch-ass niggaz, wearin thongs and skirts

Tryin to catch ’em while they goin to work

Hit them niggaz on they job at they lunch break, make the pump quick

Leave ’em ump-slayed when the fuckin pump spray

I roll with a sick all-out squad

Ten deep, let’s roll-out squad

Bring heat when it’s cold outside

Mack stick to script and stick to street

Stick in clip and flip your Jeep

Got extended shit and different heat

Mack M-1 double now [bluk, bluk, bluk]

I’m knockin feathers out your bubble-down

Stop the blood claat cryin

Blood claats from the iron, you’re dyin, no lyin

[Chorus: Beanie Sigel]

This a man world nigga, sit down you girl niggaz

“This is a man’s world!” -> [James Brown]

Man, this a man world nigga, sit down you girl niggaz

“This is a man’s world!” -> [James Brown]

This a man world nigga, man.. man..

“This is a man’s world!” -> [James Brown]

This a man world nigga, FUCK what people think

[Beanie Sigel]

This a man’s world bitch, all you whores bow down

It’s B. Sig., I pimp like TA-DOW – peep game

I sling meth in vials, hit your kitchen cook your pies up

Bring the coke back in piles, I’m that (?) ..

.. oh yeah I almost forgot

Bitch, get a foot up your ass

if you don’t get your foot on that ave and start lookin for cash

Just get mine right, your money like, don’t make me come out there

I smacked you whore and get you done right there

Leave this imprint ‘cross your forehead, from the moray

Bitch know my forte, I’m not for-play

Hit your block, let the glock four-play

Finger fuckin a trigger is not fore-play

One more time – I’m not for-play

It’s a man’s world – how it’s supposed to go

Only the soldiers roll, you young like (?) though

I move like Sonny, but never backwards

Weave in and out of traffic, holdin that package

Weight don’t get moved, it get pressed off the bench

Move through an alley and a hole in the fence

I see when you move you tense

It’s a man’s world nigga, sit down you girl niggaz

It’s a man’s world kiko, they shoulda told you from the get-go

that you fuckin with them South Philly sickos

Think it’s all raps ’til them gats start to hit you

Black talons cripple, Operation Lockdown the town with them nickels

Dopeman, dopeman!

But peep it, I ain’t goin to court

I bang people that be goin to court

And know people I ain’t goin for shorts

Bring straight money, cake money

That tan coat, razor blade, straw plate money

That grab coke, never weigh to pay for it money

Grab toast laser hater break for it money

Shit, you think you fast? Run nigga, dumb nigga

Don’t get your skin grafted up, chin tacked up

Fuck around, and get your men racked up

Whatchu think all the gats is for, you can’t last a war

It’s a man’s world nigga, sit down you girl niggaz

[Chorus]

Beanie Sigel Roc The Mic

[B Sigel] Ho! Ho!

[Freeway] Bounce

[B Sigel] Holla!

[Freeway] Bounce, bounce, bounce

[Beanie Sigel]

It’s B Sig in the place with Young Free

And I got what it takes to rock the mic right

Still watch what you say out your mouth

Cause 50 shots still will burn the club out

[Verse 1: Freeway]

I miss the hood when I’m travelin, get neck when I’m travelin

Chicks peck wood when I’m travelin

Fuck a Lex cause the click fit good in the Caravan

Slide through your hood like a avalanche

Take a flick if you get a chance get that close

Fuck an advance, cause I get that dough

Beef with me, enemies come sleep with me for breakfast

Guaranteed to eat this toast

I’m reckless, firestarter heat your folks

A starvin artist that a eat y’all tracks, so don’t bring ’em around

I be around ricans vida loca

They got all the toasters don’t need no gats

I got a six stashed leave ’em around

So I don’t get left around haters around when I leave

In the winter rock short sleaves reason the pound

With the heat blastin, keep actin the heat blastin

Techno Marine shinin, marine fashion backin ’em down

Niggas ‘gone keep hatin and my click ‘gone keep grindin

Keep movin, lockin the town

[Chorus:]

[Freeway]

It’s Freeway in the place with B Sig

And I got what it takes to rock the mic right yeah

Still watch what you say to me prick

Cause I got what it takes to dump the AK clip

[Beanie Sigel]

It’s B Sig in the place with Young Free

And I got what it takes to rock the mic right yeah

Still watch what you say out your mouth

Cause 50 shots still will turn the club out, ho!!!

[Verse 2: Beanie Sigel]

It’s Mack-daddy-young strappy

No he ain’t the OG gangsta

Yes I is! come on don’t test I kid

I firebomb cribs like Left Eye did

Notorious like that Bed-Stuy kid, +B.I.G.+ or small you can get it

Dead wrong, like tryin to brawl a strong armored midget

I pull the 9 out my pocket I’m lyin

I pull the Mac out the closet, start firin

For you cats outta pocket, stop tryin

Take that, get back, clap iron

You know, stay low, keep firin, uh!

I put the led in the gat, the metal go clap

I lay cats flat on they back, stop fuckin with this radical cat

You fuck around and need a medical cat

The led’ll go clap, your head’ll go back, uhhh

It’s B Sig in the place to be

With two heaters on the waist of me, man who’s facin me?

[Chorus:]

[Beanie Sigel]

It’s B Sig in the place with Young Free

And I got what it takes to rock the mic right yeah

Still watch what you say out your mouth

Cause 50 shots still will turn the club out, ho!!!

[Freeway]

It’s Freeway in the place with B Sig

And I got what it takes to rock the mic right yeah

Still watch what you say to me prick

Cause I got what it takes to dump the AK clip

[Verse 3: Freeway]

Big nickels down your way don’t trip

Get folded down your way, got soldiers down your way

Keep quiet down your way no lip

All of y’all need to run yo’self

Go get the burna nigga bang yo’self

Or I come through with the hammer make you lose yo’ health

Fast, roll with dashes, move like Cassius Clay

Move yay like caskets, there’s a will there’s a way

Obey my thirst move yay through traffic

Without Sprite, without Nike’s

I just do it bar break your basket

Yeah you damn right, without ice

I pull up to your honey car and stuff her basket

International post player, circle the atlas

You don’t wanna be hoe playas, circle the hood

Bend over backwards, without searchin for backwoods

[Chorus:]

[Freeway]

It’s Freeway in the place with B Sig

And I got what it takes to rock the mic right yeah

Still watch what you say to me prick

Cause I got what it takes to dump the AK clip

[Beanie Sigel]

It’s B Sig in the place with Young Free

And I got what it takes to rock the mic right yeah

Still watch what you say out your mouth

Cause 50 shots still will turn the club out, ho!!!

[Freeway]

It’s Freeway in the place with B Sig

And I got what it takes to rock the mic right yeah

Still watch what you say to me prick

Cause I got what it takes to dump the AK clip

[Beanie Sigel]

It’s B Sig in the place with Young Free

And I got what it takes to rock the mic right yeah

Still watch what you say out your mouth

Cause 50 shots still will turn the club out, ho!!!

[Outro: Freeway]

All of y’all need to run yo’self

Go get the burna nigga bang yo’self

All of y’all need to run yo’self

Go get the burna nigga bang yo’self

Shit, shit, it’s the, it’s the Roc nigga, hooo, hoo, hoo!

And another one, and another one.. [fades]

Beanie Sigel One Shot Deal

[Beanie Sigel]

One shot deal, one shot one kill

Hit you with the one shot skill

Bullets lift you up like you poppin on the wheel

Feel I can’t die when I’m poppin on the pill

So real that it feel, keep Cochran on my heels

Who rock the black and back out

Now the MAC back out, just bout to blackout

Got the ROC on my back, SP on my chain

Shooters on the block slinging P last name

Outta hot pink thangs like Camron Range

The cocaine cowboy at work

I put ya niggaz in the dirt for one like Dirt

Concealed hammer won’t jam or won’t chirp

Catch you on my second merk

Fresh outta jail, ice grill gat to smirk

Bitches on the waste can’t serve ’em

ROC without Jay won’t work?

Shit like we ain’t here

Actin like SP ain’t here

How ya’ll niggaz can’t see that clear? Clear?

Yeah, slow all the way down young scrapper

Pump ya brakes real fast, before ya crash

Crack ya head on the dash

I put ya body in a cast, keep my shotty on blast

Hard heads don’t get the picture until they see the flash

You ain’t ballin, you pump faking

Till you found in ya trunk naked

Four pound to ya crown like, “Where the paper?”

B. Sig, cold crook, I trap paper like notebook

When the hot water disappear like when coke cook

Then resurface, its Sig. Berk-owitz, bitch I’m sick

Leave that ass like Dama

Sig. heat that ass like sauna

Stretch ya body out like recliner

Stretch my middle finger to your honor

like, “Fuck the world”, thats my persona, love drama

Drop a building like Osama, you vagina

I know you wish you never met me like Carl Thomas

Try to forget me like all silence

Fuckin with a vet be, all problems

I’m not about the threats B, I’m all promise

Before “The Truth”, position in the booth

As a young scrap, I was vicious as a youth

Kept a gat moving pigeons in the Coupe

You was strapped, then positioned on the stoop

Stay strapped, put my pistol on shoot

Mac take ya “Juice” like Bishop on the roof

I had ya pissing in ya trunk like a roof

Bullets hit ya chest like a blunt rolled loose

I’m that corn liquor nigga, 100 proof

I bring the storm, all you niggaz lace ya boots

Better yet, pull out ya strings, make a noose

Hang yaself, here’s a deuce deuce, bang yaself like Cheddar Bob

I’m in the hood like S-T-tall cat-Crooked Letter-I

S-P-C-O, nigga yes I

[Redman]

Yes I

[Beanie Sigel]

Matta fact

[Redman]

Yeah, Yeah

[Beanie Sigel]

Bring it back

[Redman]

Bring it back, me, Doc, America’s blunted

Not from there, but I’m Philly Most Wanted

Drop and roll, when my biscuit boil

Talk is greasy, toungue with Crisco oil

Streets is mine, check my flow online

At ww.cutanigga.com

Bricks, two on the hip, reach for the sky

You and ya Burberry suit is buried alive

On top of the Empire, dare me to dive

[Weeeeeee] there I go, no parachute

Jackass like Knoxville, hot as Cancun

Chest hair is baboon, Redman rip the show

I be the raw in ya bitches nose

She be goin to the bathroom, sniffing blow

Like, “Oh Docta shit, my man a joke”

I know, I be strapped with a double 4-4

And a Slim Jim to open ya Cadillac door

In the Bricks you hear them guns

Rat-a-tat-BOOM

Any nigga get X’ed out like Tic-Tac-Toe

Any bitch that know, Redman goin the distance

We ain’t tryin to get fucked for instance

When you bust baby, gon light the insence

Pass me the rag, hop back in the Jag

I stole out the showroom with the pricetag

I wrote this rhyme off 25 blunt drags

Hear that sound (whoosh), leave a block hunchback

Killa House, understand prick

We ain’t gon stop till we “RICH BITCH”

Holla back, Redman, Beanie Sigel

Killa House

Beanie Sigel Lets Go

[Intro:]

Hey

Summer is on now (summer is on)

Mi have on mi shorts now

Mi and mi girlfriend a par

Woh

Start the car

A wi a drive out, we carrin out

Wooh yeah yeah yoo lawd lawd and dem mi ya gal they all bad (bad)

[Verse 1:]

Let’s go to the beach

Mek wi have a party pon the sand gal

Tek off [?] mi waan fi si u inna u thong

Buss a pose mek mi use mi touch nap one

Nuh pretty belly skin deh with di tattoo deh pon

Yuh a genuine brownin hold a summer tan

Umbrella bleacha cause a suh di summa tan

So di gal dem seh dem ready fi di summa marathon

So mi haffi sing another summa song

So mi aks u

[Chorus:]

If yuh ready fi di summa let’s go

Shout it out and let mi know (Uptown!)

Gal everywhere wi go (Downtown!)

Gotta a going now (Come on!)

If yuh ready fi di summa let’s go

Shout it out and let mi know (Dung a country)

Gal everywhere wi go (Cross di globe)

Gotta a going now

[Verse 2:]

Pass mi di white Overproof Yaad Swag mek mi poppin

Pink up ready likkle ice inna bucket

Pass di Red Rum and nuh mek Fambo done it

Whether A.T.I. or Igloo we a chuck it

Party fi di summa and di gal dem wet it

Short shorts and Marina dem gal ya a got it

Dem hav di summa body eva hot a so dem drop it

While di thugs dem a Guinness and a spliff it

That’s why mi haffi seh

[Chorus:]

If yuh ready fi di summa let’s go

Shout it out and let mi know (Uptown!)

Gal everywhere wi go (Downtown!)

Gotta a going now (Come on!)

If yuh ready fi di summa let’s go

Shout it out and let mi know (Dung a country!)

Gal everywhere wi go (Cross di globe)

Gotta a going now

[Verse 3:]

Gal from all about a fly down fi di summa (yuh si Anna)

Har skin so fly cocoa butta

She cock up pon di R6 wid di big pappa

Mi have a gal from Buff Bay but this ya one a buffa

Mi have pound of high grade dung a West mi a guh fah (nah suffa)

This year mi money get nuffa

Mi just by mi heart serious mi a nuh bluffa

Dem sing summa song but this a one ya tuffa

Mi aks dem

[Chorus:]

If yuh ready fi di summa let’s go

Shout it out and let mi know (Uptown!)

Gal everywhere wi go (Downtown!)

Gotta a going now (Come on!)

If yuh ready fi di summa let’s go

Shout it out and let mi know (Dung a country!)

Gal everywhere wi go (Cross di globe)

Gotta a going now

[Repeat until the end]

Beanie Sigel The Truth

I speak the truth

Truth , nothin but the truth

Y’all know what I bring to the game I speak the truth

The truth , nothing but the truth

[Beanie Mac]

I hope you got an extra mic and a fire proof booth

Cuz you know I’m known to metal wire or two

You need a fire engineer when I lay this blaze

I melt down cracks that’s real to save

Hit the studio , jars of dro , bars to blow

B. Sigel with that arsenic flow

Fuck that , don’t hold me back

I roll with crack , y’all cats told Mac to rap

Y’all don’t realize y’all released the beast untame

Speech all flame , streets y’all blame

It should be an honor for y’all to speak my name

I could go before your honor he couldn’t and peep my game

Gotta laugh , y’all acted like ya’ spit it the same

Why you motherfuckers can’t get in the game

I come from high school , and go straight to the league

Who you know who can spit at the Sig

[CHORUS 2X]

Nigga the truth , every time I step in the booth

I speak the truth , y’all know what I’m bringing to you

I bring the truth , you motherfuckers know who I be

I be the truth , when I speak cell set you free

Nigga the truth

[Beanie Mac]

Aint nothin changed with Sig I’m still stuck in the kitchen

So what I’m signed , that’s fine still stuck in position

You motherfuckers know me well , couple court cases from jail

Couple 4-4 shells from hell

Stuck on this mission , go home , my girl fussin and bitchin

Motherfucker won’t you change your life , I’m thinkin

Motherfucker won’t I change my wife

Ignorant bastard laughin like fuck the rap shit

It’s just another hustle ,another way for niggas to touch you

Now they know the face of Beans

Now they , see my face on screens and I aint even chase this dream

I feel sorry for those who did

Y’all niggas can’t stop the boar , whether rock or raw

I’m slingin coke in a rock valor

You niggas know what block I’m on , glock in palm

You wanna get shot , karate chopped or stabbed this song

Motherfucker

[CHORUS]

[Beanie Mac]

Black Friday management , and Roc’s the label

And I still hit you niggas with shots that’s fatal

That bullshit vest can’t save you

I had a doc open you up from chest to navel

See my face on cable , and have flashbacks of that cold ass table

And them hoes I gave you

I’m that nigga that’ll come and pour salt in your wound

At the hospital , while the cops guardin your room

You gotta see what I’ve seen , look where I’ve looked

Touch what I’ve reached , and take what I’ve took

You gotta go where I’ve gone , walk where I’ve walked

To get where I’m at to speak what I’ve talked

You gotta lay where I’ve laid , stay where I’ve stayed

Play where I’ve played to make what I’ve made

You gotta move what I’ve moved , use what I used

Use tools how I use , use fools how I use