Lost Boyz Ordinary Gun

[Lost Boyz ad lib for the first 20 seconds]

[Mr. Cheeks]

I think it was the month of June, when I bumped, heads with this chick

Me and my click, we was on the Van Wyck

A whip rolls up on the strip, full of freaks

The music lowers down and this passenger speaks

It’s a, flame of mine from back in the day

John Adams High down on Rockaway

Like to blow around the smoke in the air from the trees

from the way it’s lookin, word they still gettin G’s

Scoped out the whip, I’m checkin out each honey

They must be gettin money, I didn’t see code 20[?]

The L’s was burnin, Alize is what they drinkin

If she said she’s on the way and yo it really had me thinkin

of back in the day when we both used to swerve

At parties we would bounce, smoke a whole ounce of herb

Word my man I never hit it raw

On the strength to-fuckin-day we still get it on, listen

[Chorus: Mr. Cheeks]

I’m, just your, ordinary guy

Love bitches and money and love bein high

Run with Pretty Lou, Spig Nice and Freaky Tah

How that sound? Ahhhhh-ahhhhhh

Here’s a little somethin from Linden and the [?]

We used to get down and hustle my man

But nothing comes easy in this world full of shit

Nigga take this job and shove it out quick what

[Mr. Cheeks]

One day I’m workin up on the block

Slingin my motherfuckin rock

Now police they tried to run up on us

My niggaz tried to warn us (where at) on all the corners

And now I’m I’m I’m I’m jettin

You see I’m almost, I’m almost, Moet-ed

Hopped over the gate, landed in my man’s backyard

I knocked on the door, yo whassup bruh?

Yo let a nigga like, me in

Police they tryin to pull a nigga in

They lookin for the kid that’s sellin that crack note

Lookin for the suspect in the black coat

Yo, I’m not, I’m I’m not the baddest

but these motherfuckers know my status

Now peep it I be comin with the motherfuckin

thunder and the rain, I will remain, cause


[Freaky Tah]

This job, shove it out quick

Nuttin come easy in this world full of shit

Used to put me down, to hustle with my man

Little somethin, from livin in the ‘Ville

Huh, huh, huh, hustle my man

Huh, huh..

[Mr. Cheeks]

Now, now, now, now this one day I’m workin at JFK

It’s the 4th of July, nigga HEY!

Something’s wrong man, I don’t like this day

it’s going too long man, I’m gettin strong man

from pickin up these motherfuckin banners

See I want that shit to make my eyes sad

So I jumped off early, got on the back of the 10

I’m all in and in the van with my man

Now I’m up on the block, puffin lye

And I’m with Lou, Spig, and Tah

Now peoples lookin at us, lookin at us

Police they wanna come through and rush

But we ain’t got no crack, we got weed

That’s all we need, yes indeed

And I’ll, always

smoke weed in the hallways, cause


[Mr. Cheeks]

Take this job and shove it out quick

Nothin comes easy in this world full of shit

I used to get down and hustle my man

Here’s a little somethin from Linden and the [?]

Now here’s a little somethin from Linden and the [?]

We used to get down and hustle my man

Now nothin comes easy in this world full of shit

Nigga take this job and shove it out quick

Take this job and shove it out quick

Nothin comes easy in this world full of shit

I used to get down and hustle my man

Well here’s a little somethin from Linden and the [?]

Here’s a little somethin from Linden and the [?]

I used to get down, and hustle my man

Now nothin comes easy in this world full of shit

Nigga take this job and shove it out quick


[ad libbing to the fade]

Lost Boyz Channel Zero


Ayo, yea niggas

I’m talkin to all y’all hard rock niggas

Let y’all niggas know that I understand

What niggas is really goin through ya understand?

Motherfuckin down to they last cent

Smoke the looseys

Thinkin up shit to do, doin stick ups and shit

Bustin at niggas, murderin niggas

Gettin bullshit ass money

What if that was your breed was you murderin clown?

It’s wack

Shout out to grandpa, you know what I’m sayin

Shout out to grandpa kelly

My man ralou’s brother little Deven

Ya know I’m sayin, Freaky Taliq’s moms, rest in peace

Know I’m sayin

Everybody wanna live the ill life, know I’m sayin

But yo we tryin ta live it like love, peace and nappiness

You know I’m sayin, word up

[Verse 1]

I’m growing up in the ghetto

And there was nobody happy

And my head is mad nappy and

I’m thinkin up a way that I can get some dough

Man I’m tryin ta blow

But yet this record shit is so slow

I got the whole family on my back

All I do is eat and sleep

Run the street with that steel pack

You know the lost boyz got

With timbs and jeans

Field jackets, and hats coverin the eyes

But listen, that’s how it is

If you don’t dig how I live

Motherfucka [?]

Cuz everyday on the street

The black man is gettin beat

Police line us up on the concrete

Now people look at me

And always see wrong

A new problem everyday

I’m tryin ta be strong

Now how strong can a nigga be

When the blacks is locked down

And the white man’s got the key

It’s gettin harder day after day

Somebody got ta pay

And in my closet lays an AK

The new [?] is found dead

Plus when he killed the girl

He put the gun to his own head

Ya never hear it on the 6:00 news

When my niggas get killed in the street over tennis shoes

It’s hard enough for us blacks to earn cash man

The homeless keep warm by settin fire to a trash can

Now everyday I need ends

New [?] my nigga weed

St. Ides is my best friend

Pa’s is broke

No calls comin in on my phone

And money I’m down to my last stone

My mom dukes is always bangin on my door

My music’s too loud

I got clothes on the floor (pick em up)

She doesn’t understand

I’m cruisin in the fast lane

I’m fresh outta nerves

Ma, you’re workin on my last vein

Now how can I explain

That I don’t wanna take her out

But that’s stuck in my brain

We’re havin fight after fight

Because I leave when it’s bright

And comes home the next night

But that’s the life that I live understands me

It’s bad enough that Po-Nine tried ta can me

Ayo my lifestyle is rough

I got three sisters, four brothers

Man, ain’t this enough?

But yet I gots no hero

But I got the 411 on the ghetto

Tune into channel zero

Tune into channel zero

Tune into channel zero


Everybody in the world

Everybody uptown

Everybody in Queens

Tune into channel zero

Everybody in Brooklyn

Everybody in the Bronx

Everybody in the world

Tune into channel zero

[Verse 2:]

I live in Queens, New York (what you do?)

I twist a cap with my niggas

Smoke a blunt let’s start to talk

About this ill situation

That us blacks is in

It’s time we build a better nation

Motherfuck them police

Some whites talk about peace


But they ain’t ready for the planet

Marky Mark be talkin that slang

But he don’t even understand it

Yea I said Marky Mark

Frontin like the buddarist punk

I never saw you in the park

You give it all to your bullshit skills G

A white boy actin black, that shit kills me

Pants hangin, talkin slang kid and all that

I never seen you in the projects or black

Ya never wons no grammy

Ya whites gave Elvis a stamp

But what ya plan ta give my man Sammy?

Lost Boyz Colabo


Let me tell you somethin, about to wild on this track

Who wanna react, nigga ain’t no holdin me back

Sparkin the dutches every day, Colabo with Queens Most

Up in the party, drinkin Bacardi, yo how we go

Rockin non stop to the top

And I won’t drop, till my vocal cords feel like they gon pop

Who wanna get it on, niggas try to peep my scheme

Know my team, standin right in front of the screen

I blaze it up, like flames, ain’t no time for the games

Out the same Queens crew, but two different names

JnJ and QMW, here to bring the trouble too

I wild on any track like that son I be runnin you

Leavin you on the floor bleedin, eatin mess is what you needin

Cardiac arrest with poor breathin

I be leavin you in the dust, you can’t front on us

We lust for the cream, and ya gun don’t bust

Nigga what


My team reform like a mason meeting

I put the heat to your face, official Queens greeting

Niggas like you get slapped kid, just for speakin

While my niggas wild out, off the shit I’m drinkin

That ain’t ya proof, I let loose on your whole group

While ya recruit, my fans splittin up ya fuckin loot

That’s how we do, jump out like you owe somethin

You Q roll somethin, stompin like you stoled somethin

You think I’m frontin?, yo my Queens livin, money gettin

Whether its rap or coke flippin

Ya niggas need to avoid collision

Cuz your chance is tryin to advance to all my fam

When it’s gun to grams, wrong plan you and your man

Quick to get rejected, I rock a 50 inch necklace

My team break records, we make ya life hectic

The Queens Most Wanted, yo my man made you run it

But shit you did, we done it, y’all niggas don’t want it

[Chorus x2: Leek]

Ain’t no tellin what I thought of them

Me and my hooligans a ruin em

Send hot ones at his crew and him

Fluin him, M.L. style, spinned around blaze the pound

Now lay ya ass down

[Rob U]

We be the wild type shifty livin cats from Queens

98 hold it down, basically for my team

Mega drama in the hood, y’all got to stay on point

Cuz nothin to lose, wanna be thug cats

Push ya shit back, but fuck that

We play the game too, only if it’s necessary

We never start shit, we finish shit

And holdin it down, when it’s time to go hard

In this rap shit too, if you wanna get technical

It’s quite a few to hold it down like we do

And lay ya verse on a track that be confortable

It ain’t a team out here fuckin with my crew

South Jamaica Queens, Queens Most comin through

Rob U, Wow Woo O, and my nigga Leek, and Bandit kid

Forever in my memory


Now let me get on the mic, and get the penis

What’s the count em in this?

Third and one, man in motion, I’m about the blitz ya scrimmage

I see everything in my perimeter, I deliver the blows

Sendin you to the ground, you can’t get up, lay down, stay down

Sendin game to O Team, wild walk, QB and O Beem

Came on the field with O E, and nobody can hold me

The acrobatic track assassinator me and Drama

Stand back to back like 25 on a calculator

Now make a move, I shake em like an earthquake

I’m a take em and tie em into a human pretzle

What’s left to do then break em

I disappear like a genie, reappear on ya tv with and LP and CD

Strictly GB now we be, gutter butter family strong

Smurfin my bong, blaze trauma to bomb

on our flight to our show in Hong Kong

Now hold on tight, it’s the rap reckin ball

Knockin ya out of position we don’t saw

JnJ, Queens Most, colaboratin evacuate

A whole platoon of niggas, we should of did it sooner niggas

[Chorus x2]

Lost Boyz Jeeps, Lex Coups, Bimaz & Benz

[Intro: Mr. Cheeks]


LB fam finally up in this piece

Got my mans that put me on, you know what I’m sayin

want a shout out to the Uptown, know what sayin

Word up

MCA, this is how we do everyday

Me and Freaky Tah..hah

pretty Lou, my man, Spigg Nice

we be gettin’ down representin

so this is how we go

let me let you know, how

it be, in da, G-H-E, double T-O

ryhme name ho

They be runnin’ shit down the line

hey, if you hear a mistake rewind

[Verse 1:]

Whose the best whose the worst in this here rap game

for those who claim to be the best

I tear them out the frame

I’m representin’ puttin’ Queens on the map (you wear)

double springs, wit some baggy jeans when I rap

Come up with a style to make con-versital

don’t treat me like no lame I’ve been in this game for awhile

I’ve seen alot ta come, (come)

I’ve seen alot a go(go), I’ve seen alot ta break

I’ve seen alot to blow, a yo

It’s a trip to see a nigga slip

Geta grip nigga, nigga geta grip, geta

You don’t even know the half of my crew

to be talking, but you’re talking and you act like you knew

Yo set it, you fuckin’ crossed the line and hit the border

LB fam start attacking some attacking outta order

Put on your leather gloves, and hats and get your picture mats

and get the gats just in case you take it to the stacks


Shout out to the Jeeps,

It’s the Lex Coups, Bimas and the Benz (and the Benz)

to all my ladies and my men (my men)

to all my peoples in the pen (in the pen)

keep your head up

and to the hoods (the hood)

East Coast, West Coast and World Wide (world wide)

Ain’t nuttin’ wrong with puffin’ on lai (on lai)

and if you’re with me let me hear you say “Ri-ght”

[Verse 2:]

Now a… Now… Now a dayz

niggaz frontin’ like they ill (like they ill)

now bustin’ caps and got a muthafuckin’

things to do to show his skill

Recognize, nigga what you frontin’ for

I know your style

you neva hit a blunt before

Oh, your just another in the race (man you betta stop)

fakin’ gats, takin’ up space

to me your nuttin’ but a needle in the hay stack

listen kid I’ve been doing this since way back

in the day, Ace Duce Tre, at the best

up to Zimbobwae, hey

whose the best, I want the best to come test me

so I can release some stress from my chest G

Is you down to go pound for pound,

toe to toe, blow for blow, round for round

I’m wonderin’ cuz I bring the thunder and the rain

causin’ confusion to your brain


[Verse 3:]

Keep the shit live for the year Nine Five

I got more niggaz in my tribe

than theres beez in the bee hive

LB Fam everyday stay high

Mr. Cheeks, everyday high

consentrate to get my shit straight, make us wait

Before it’s too fuckin’ late

The Lost Boyz, yeah that’s who I be’z wit,

that’s who I runs wit

who I smoke Treez wit

Pack your bags, head outta town,

I’ll be back around so be gone before sundown

From Jamaica comes a nigga named Cheeks,

with techniques of the streets

over rough neck beats

This room is going bounce about the Cheeks cant remember

I’m the muthafucker choppin’ crews like a chainsaw

Talk what you what ta

do what you gotta

well let me tell you something man you cant do me nadda



Now if you listen to my album, you see we only deal

wit the real deal street life

Lost Boyz From My Family To Yours

[VERSE 1: Mr. Cheeks]

This be a message to the ghetto when will this shit stop

We lost 2 ill niggaz B.I.G and 2pac

This goes to all of us so peep the session from your nigga

You can be loved by millions but one clown can pull the trigga

See you aim to get bigger they break for your downfall

Your life is how you living kid just give it your all

We strive to be the best that’s what they taught us in the rhyme

Smoking weed and getting bent we’ve all been through hard times

Much respect to your hood love is love that’s all good

The plan’s to make you niggaz understand, understood

Yo here’s the deal for real you can’t get killed from entertaining

But that’s all we know cause from the street we got the training


This be a ghetto dedication from my family to yours

How hard is this to explain when it rains kid it pours

Instead of bringing (crime ills[?]) and senseless wars

You niggaz need to expand, buy land, open stores

You talk of revolution but you’re very much afraid

Take that chip off your shoulder let’s all get paid

Direct it to the world because we all need peace

We all livin in the belly of the beast

[VERSE 2: Mr. Cheeks]

Yo, now many lives are lost still to this day we ask the reason

All the suffering we’ve been through niggaz still is into squeezing

Mom dukes on welfare ghetto love no more we share

You rising to the top but then get hit from the rear

One night up in the hood I found my own self thumpin

Cause niggaz out there they felt that I owed them something

Talk behind my back they don’t attack that don’t offend me

A 13-year old could just up, and end me

If he wanted to, blunted with the brew in his hand

Now does that make shorty rock the man?

Not only in your hood but in my hood we lost 2 good fellaz

It’s more than what they motherfuckers tell us

Now if a cop got shot someone’s caught the same night

That’s the bullshit you motherfuckin right

So take heed to what I say, LB Fam pray in they own way

To the motherfuckin day


[VERSE 3: Queens Most Wanted]

2 of the illest rap artists underground bodies slain

They both did they thing went platinum in the game

At home where I zone there’s a TV I watch

BET, MTV, video, music box

It bugs me out for real I’m in the zone kid that’s ill

It only goes to show up in the rap game it’s real

It’s just a little something on my mind how I feel

Now niggaz kick raps, and caps get peeled

Kid I thought we was rhymin man fuck that actin tough

Enough is enough let’s dead that East and West stuff

I’m callin niggaz bluff yo my rap game be tuff

Let’s take it to the stage and let the lyric game buss

I’m tryin to live a hundred plus in this crazy world

To hold down my fam, Queens, and my baby girl

Look here we tryin to make it but they tryin to hold us back

That’s why I’m speakin my opinion on this track

The media they tryin to throw dirt in the game

But me and my fam we found ways to explain

Throughout the pain I try to gain and keep the shit the same

It’s quite strange how these cats keep playin games


Lost Boyz Summer Time

Summer, summer, summer time

Summer, summer, summer time

Summer, summer, summer time

[Mr. Cheeks]

Well listen Summer time in the city

Now niggas ride around town, for another sounds, look before the smithy

And even on ball courts, you got the shorties watchin fellas

Doin anythings on they baggy shorts

And kids is having fun in the park

But there’s a limit, moms says you best to be home before dark

Now we all know the flavor, were back on the black moms

Chattin with the next door neighbour sayin “Hi”

The folks that don’t ride

Her hands on the floor head cuz the sun keeps gettin in the rock

Little kids in sweaty suits, with niggas like Lost Boyz

Strictly t-shirts or the boots

Standin on the van with, I’m wavin at chicks

Takin food from the vooda, and sips from the Mystics

Lex, coups, beemers and benz

Niggas hangin with they man makin hits

We bouncin in the city

[Chorus: x4]

Summer, summer, summer time (summer time in the city)

[Mr. Cheeks]

In every borough there’s a crew

Of niggas smokin blunts and drinkin brew

Cuz that’s the way that us niggas do

With Newports in the ear, playin concrete sports

And shorties walk around in daisy dukes shorts, bounce

The would be throwin jams in the park

When the buddha is sparked, they get together after dark

GG and G tapes are bangin, it’s strictly Spigg Nice

And that hat black, when me and my niggas are sayin

I’m given beats to my peeps when I pass through

In 89, cuz them shorties smoke grass too

To make a avenue, somethin in god rule

40 be, that is lee, agent I too

And to my peoples on the rock

132142, yeah that’s the rock

See Queens niggas do they thing

Champagne and rings don’t hold shit,

bang real niggas hang in the city

[Chorus x4]

[Mr. Cheeks]

It’s about 98 degrees, everybodies gettin cheese

And a downy in my round, spit is walk around in dungaries

When new burgers got a lot around the corner

See a shorty and you want, now you best to push up on her, right?

I lay my act, slick sleen back, 40 ounce down south

Bounce bounce like that

Smokin charm as we creep thru the streets

Lost Boyz, they bites and they eat meats

They blues, no socks, short skirts, t-shirts, red Reebok

Shorty bouncin with friends

3 piece, bbs, cloned out on the Benz

I wanna hit in the car, how them skins feel

Shorty with the ribbon in the windshield

So one two, this is how we do

Summer time, Lost Boyz comin thru in the city

[Chorus x4]

Lost Boyz New York City War Call

[Mr. Cheeks]

What’s ya niggas thinkin?

Mad that we increasin, while ya shrinkin?

Button up your lip, your ship is sinkin

You must be coked out, frontin like that ass is loc’d out

I’m gettin cheddar from this shit I’m spittin

And I’m gettin smoked out

Scate through the streets in whips crossin five digits

Takin shorts from no midgets

My style is top notch, y’all niggas can’t fuck with the status

I’m climbin up the ladders, droppin shit the phattest

Yo, toss ya niggas like a salad

See ya style is softer than a love balad, don’t let us get violent

Keep in silent when we run through, you know how niggas come through

Represent the slum too

Wearin black hoodies, keep a spare segreen inside of my Timbs

Jewelry shine like rims, hear ya niggas yellin

Make a little bread ya head is swellin from the bullshit you sellin

Who you tellin?

[Chorus x2:]

It’s a New York City War Call for you all

Us cats gettin green, by all means love the war

A midnight special billy New York call

So when you squeeze it kid, of you bound to fall

[Mr. Cheeks]

Cheese and henny got me lifty

I’m in the dark with shorty gettin tipsy

Shorty got my back, when niggas acting shifty

Spazzin when she’s with me

Loves to hit them niggas tryin to get me

Shows and proves and she moves swiftly

Yo, take Atlantic City trips

While niggas backin no hood round they lips

My team is stackin chips

We push the hot whips, keep they kids fed

Tight a part mister rest ahead

That jealously shit is dead, fuck it live it up

We comin through and takin shit if they don’t give it up

These tattoos on my body, it’s no gimmick

I’m takin shit to the essence, no limits

I’m headin forwar, push my pedal all away

Let’s get this cash flowin, and start ballin we all a play

To the day I’m up and gone, I’m gonna get it on

Aiyo, let’s all sing along

[Chorus x2]

[Mr. Cheeks]

I love this New York City life, we give and take some

You got a chance to get this cheddar nigga, make some

The only muthafucka way to go, is gettin dough

You get yours, how you gettin yours? I get my spit and flow

These niggas know about my rap capabilities

I hold the streets down for my cats and the facilities

And drink my henny when the whites, and keep the L’s lit

Love to talk shit, I’m on that Queens, New York shit

That’s where I’m from yo, the slum sound nation

My hot skills, help me build my foundation

Livin life up on the edge, LB Fam I pledge

To my niggas Skate Scrape, Born King and Sledge

But anyway I’m in this game kid, with many play

Goin hard, knowin I can go like any day

Let the henny stay, many say, let it go

You feelin that you got game nigga, bet it yo

[Chorus x2]

Lost Boyz 5 A.M.

[Chorus: QB]

It’s be them real life ghetto shit

Be couple grounds, listen close while niggas run it down

Games not to be played, ’99 straight chips, hot chicks

We got no time for these dicks

(Push the hot whips)

Burn trees, drink hennecy

When I die you’ll remember me

So when I’ll die you’ll remember me

This be some real life ghetto shit


Niggas thinkin shit is sweet

But I aint with too much talkin, I’mma let my heat speak

And don’t get caught asleep with some with a freak

Cuz the chicks I deal with give me everything cheap, chief

[Mr. Cheeks]

I hear them talkin, we push the whips and still walkin

Yo this nigga done, cousin stick a fork in him

Try to warn him, my little brother and they team they

had to run up on him

A new asshole, they chon him


These chicks opened up they cheeks, deep note they meat

Whatever, they play for keeps just to keep some fresh feet

The streets, we from the streets, we gotta hold heat

No matter where we go, never know if we got beef

[Mr. Cheeks]

Aiyo, niggas on the streets, nobody speaks

But when it’s showtime, they on line, che che che che

Listen, nigga play your position

You was glisten, when a nigga like me had no pot to piss in


Yo I feel you god, this rap life shit is really hard

I spent my money at the bar, but I still be large

Charge cards, your garage for my truck

My cellys off the nuts, yo Cheeks wake the fuck up!

[Mr. Cheeks]

Yo fuck the dumb shit, we spit official slum shit

Yo what the fuck, is that the best a nigga come with

I love the night life, a gift to soak my right rhymes

I got a pint of henny backwards and a light dime


And I know that it hurts Cheeks, I love my niggas

So my niggas come first Cheeks, you feel me son?

Fuck the trips, fuck the whips and exotic women

Let’s stack the dough so we can see ya niggas out of prison

We miss ’em


[Mr. Cheeks]

Aiyo these niggas wanna outline us

What’s the deal god, they hard to find us

Be prepared to feel my nine bust

Took my brother from me, aiyo you know how deep the slum be

But youse afraid to even come see


Ghetto and grimy, with chicks with Timbs

The streets are dims, the heats on hits

The freak are pimps, the hood livin

Where bummy niggas gotta lie to dough

I’m not a pimp, but I still gotta buy them hoes

[Mr. Cheeks]

Take a cold heart jeans, surrounded by the crack heads and dope fiends

The type of no hope seems, life stays in the mix

Rather be judged by twelve, then carried by six

I need the fix


Chicks so intimited, cause I’m not innovative

Hey yo, they mad cuz I made it, I’m glad that they hate it

Blow them away, coin toss, throw her away

Put your clothes on trick, nobody told you to stay, bitch!


[Mr. Cheeks]

My hot outta stay drips

Lead the hot outta stay chicks

The shorty named toots push the six

Love to shake her shimmy, seen her one night, me and Bimmy

Aiyo some more she wanna give me?


And you can catch me in the city spinnin

5 A.M., window crack with my teeth grinnin

With the sight, straight livin

While I’m lookin at these pretty women

Crossin the light, they lookin at me

Like this niggas winnin, I know they hate me