2004/5/6

brown, foxy

ughh

ughh

yeah

this is beanie sigel

that philly cat who ain't with that silly rap

put your weight up

not your hate up

niggas

y'all know how i play quiet towns and tie 'em down

haters wonderin' how i got a position with roc

cuz i listen to the lox and i listen then watch

while you still sittin' in spots

ditchin' the cops

i'm in the porsche box with fox

glistenin' watch

war steel gray

lexus

gs-4

desert eagle metal in the door

pedal to the floor

i'm routin' down south

for my aim is to score

eight cylinder

screamin' 'fuck the law!'

got a tank full of gas

trunk full of cash

hammers in the stash

scanners in the dash

radar detectors

troopers can't find us

we bubble down atl and hit the 'linas

then get clubbed with some dirty south thugs

go all out thugs

go in your house thugs

talk shit

put blood in your mouth thugs

36 south stuck

stay on route thugs

you know how mac play

quiet town

tie it down

i supply it now

by the pound

might front you a q if you buy a pound

if you didn't try it then

why would you try it now?

think cause mac rap

i wouldn't fire a round into your crown

i lay you down and retire you clown

and i clap niggas

nap niggas in the dirt

pat-pat with the deuce deuce

it'll work

bitch ass niggas wearin' thongs and skirts

catch 'em early in the mornin' while they goin' to work

see you pretty motherfuckers stay stuck in the mirror

and you weak ass niggas only bust out of fear

i know y'all softer than them feathers that they stuff in a bear

i pack two barettas

never bust in the air

twist your shit back

spit til my gat sits back

pack four pieces like a kit kat. heh

get that?

cop cris' by the six-pack

range rov?' dot six that

benz coupe

drop six that

buggy eye seven come out? shit

took the six back

switch the double r

the double r's are

gotta get that

you see how we play

pop cris' on the e-way

soakin' the seat

gettin' drunk with bleek

or the shark bar

grilled salmon

poppin' dom p

while you chicken when you chasin' your high with hot tea

niggas flashin' back money like it's they money

slap 500 on back of a three-twenty

i'm bringin' it to any nigga tryin' to shoot games

with them bullshit buggy-eyed kits and cds

check it out

yo

yo

well

i'm a lil' nigga don't speak

i tote heat

here to shut down your whole operation on the street

bleek

you know niggas just had to recruit this

my flow drool out like a old nigga toothless

who would believe they pump bleek with ritalin

too hyped up

but weed calm my adrenaline

roll day on the strip

sk in the crib

hundred crack viles

playin' the benj'

nickel nine gleam

like it's armor all'd up

my squad be armed up

gotcha niggas' arms up

who the fuck want what? me and bean's trumped up

witcha town under siege

dillinger in the sleeve

if my gun jam

you niggas'll squeeze on me

you niggas them cats

that'll call d's on me

i'm on on my off game

need a stadium for in stores

floss chains and i pimp whores

stay smoked out

shirt be poked out with the snub-nosed eight

six to jump out

you eat what you spit

motherfucker die clean

for you actin' tough cats

but in your heart you serene

i read your body languo

you off balance and don't wanna mangle

you want a challenge

get it brought to from every angle

this shit'll slow 'em down

i bet that

your up front dough and your six

bet that motherfucker

sassy fox some brick money

cop me a drop

you know how i run it

600

glassy top

rock the light gray wrist shit

flash them rocks

the red

the yellow

the green

causin' traffic stops

bitch please

never freeze

gonna blast the glock

then i show a little cleave' and breeze past the cops

you talk slick but suck dick for money in y'all hand

i'm like

bitch