| (feat. Beanie Siegal) | |
| (Verse 1: AZ) | |
| I holds it down for the convicts that live in a box | |
| And them little grimy niggaz that live in them spots | |
| Venimous plots, real nine ? glocks | |
| Spin with the drop | |
| Hammer cocks, sent you a shot | |
| Brooklyn motha fucka, we blend with the blocks | |
| Live niggaz, type to spend 10 on a watch | |
| Face lift it | |
| Hit it straight nuttin' to taste wit it | |
| Fuck shots | |
| Cop bottles, whole case wit it | |
| Street war | |
| Niggaz don't beef no more | |
| See the kill for real or don't eat no more | |
| Sleep no more | |
| Hollow tips'll eat you raw | |
| Straight through the right cheek of your jaw (blaow) | |
| Lets get it on | |
| With the guns drawn | |
| Ride or die | |
| No whats wrong | |
| Gettin' shitted on | |
| My reply | |
| Touch you up with some shit that'll tear your soul | |
| Wrap up if you feel the cold | |
| That's real | |
| (Hook: Beanie Sigel) | |
| My' spit from my block men | |
| Everyday ya upstate gettin' boxed in | |
| Stick a (marriage?) through the gate when they locked in | |
| You can hear 'em when they break when they boxed in | |
| That's real | |
| My spit from my street men | |
| All day, smuggle yay pull ya Jeep's in | |
| Never play where you lay we ain't sleepin' | |
| Spot clean, FED's dumb let 'em creep in | |
| That's real | |
| (Verse 2: Beanie Sigel) | |
| I break laws when I want to | |
| Jaws when I want to | |
| Everybody, get them on the floor when I come through | |
| Know the rules not to move when I come to jam you | |
| Two hammers | |
| One in my hand one in the tan room | |
| The General | |
| I could care less if theres ten of you | |
| I'm built for stress | |
| Do what few men can do | |
| Send a few into you | |
| Injured you, you injured two | |
| Mack 11 ya hit your Chevy | |
| Sent it off in his inertubes | |
| Mack pop the pistol well | |
| Cop fish scales | |
| Used to pop a pistol quick | |
| Cock that ? shit | |
| Gun still on the missile tip | |
| Hit that main tissue shit | |
| Kidney, lungs, heart, spleen, brain tissue shit | |
| I hit you niggaz where it hurt at | |
| Where you little niggaz they dirt at | |
| Where they pump they work at | |
| Recognize when the motha fuckin' truth in here | |
| Beanie Sieg hottest thing in the booth this year | |
| That's real | |
| (Hook: Beanie Sigel) | |
| My spit from my block men | |
| Everyday ya upstate gettin' boxed in | |
| Stick a (marriage) ? through the gate when they locked in | |
| You can hear 'em when they break when they boxed in | |
| That's real | |
| My spit from my street men | |
| All day, smuggle yay pull ya Jeep's in | |
| Never play where you lay we ain't sleepin' | |
| Spot clean, FED's dumb let 'em creep in | |
| That's real | |
| (AZ) | |
| Ya little mind and the things that it conjure up | |
| Even worse when you Henney'd and Ganja'd up | |
| Could see it now | |
| Feet duck taped, arms in cuffs | |
| Your conscience fucked | |
| Pissey be on your bluff | |
| (Beanie Sigel) | |
| I roll with niggaz that'll clap you up | |
| Get locked and wait for you to get knocked and whack you up | |
| Stick a motha fuckin' sword in ya | |
| Make everybody on the motha fuckin' block see the broad in ya | |
| (AZ) | |
| Arm the ? | |
| Niggaz need to bomb wit us | |
| Dawn wit us | |
| Bust of they chronic wit us | |
| Quiet Money, Roc-A-Fella nigga arm your pups | |
| Play the game before your palms get touched (nigga) | |
| (Beanie Sigel) | |
| I (spiffin?) niggas doin' a long time | |
| All day, could see new spades and keep a blade on a phone line | |
| Keep the guards payed so they got they own line | |
| Hustle on the block still make they own wine | |
| That's real | |
| (Hook: Beanie Sigel) - repeat 3X | |
| My spit from my block men | |
| Everyday ya upstate gettin' boxed in | |
| Stick a (marriage?) through the gate when they locked in | |
| You can hear 'em when they break when they boxed in | |
| Tha'ts real | |
| My spit from my street men | |
| All day, smuggle yay pull ya Jeep's in | |
| Never play where you lay we ain't sleepin' | |
| Spot clean, FED's dumb let 'em creep in | |
| That's real |
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