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Beanie Sigel




Music World  →  Lyrics  →  B  →  Beanie Sigel  →  Albums  →  The B. Coming

Beanie Sigel Album


The B. Coming (03/29/2005)
03/29/2005
1.
Feel It In The Air (feat. Melissa)
2.
I Can't Go On This Way (feat. Freeway & Young Chris)
3.
One Shot Deal (feat. Redman)
4.
Gotta Have It (feat. Peedi Crakk & Twista)
5.
Don't Stop (feat. Snoop Dogg)
6.
Purple Rain (feat. Bun B)
7.
Oh Daddy (feat. Young Chris)
8.
Change (feat. Melissa Jay & Rell)
9.
Bread & Butter (feat. Grand Puba & Sadat X)
10.
11.
Flatline (feat. Peedi Crakk)
12.
Tales Of A Hustler Pt. 2 (feat. Schino & Sparks)
13.
Look at Me Now (feat. Rell)
14.
It's On (feat. Jay-Z)
15.
Wanted (On the Run) (feat. Cam'ron)
. . .


[spoken]
My Spider senses is tinglin
Feel somethin, got my radars up

Somethin goin on, i feel funny cant tell me nuttin different
My nose twitchin
Intuition settin in like steve vision
I still close my eyes, i still see visions
Still hear that voice in tha back of my mind
So what i do? i still take heathe, i still listen
I still paint that perfect picture,
I still shine bright like a prism
My words still skippin - thru air
I know you cant, dont, wont get it
You n*ggas chose to ride that ****, ?sault wit it?
Im still afloat, i aint tha captain of tha yact but im on a boat
I aint actin what im not
Knowin that i dont, you n*ggas actin like you will but i know you wont, you wont
I read between tha lines of ya eyes to ya brows
Ya handshake aint matchin ya smile
Ill holla, you n*ggas foul

[hook]
I can feel it in tha air
I can feel it in tha air
I can feel it in tha air
I can hear it in your voice
I can feel it in tha air

I sit alone in my 4 cornered room starin at hammers
Ready to go banannas
2 vests on me, 2 techs, extra clips on me
I know my mind aint playin tricks on me
I aint skitz hommie
Aint no body drop a nick on me
Its like they tryna plot a set on me
I hear this voice in tha back of my mind like mack tighten up ya circle
Before they hurt you
Read they body language
85% communication non-verbal, 85% swear they know you
10% you know they soft, man tha other 5..time to show you, just know you
Then pull they strings, you tha puppet master
**** them other bastards
Man watch who you puffin after
Play ya cards, go against all odds
Shoot for tha moon if you miss, you still amongst those stars

[hook]
I can feel it in tha air
I can feel it in tha air
I can feel it in tha air (i aint scared n*gga i aint goin no where)
I can hear it in your voice (can you feel me?)
I can feel it in tha air (can you feel me?)

Can you feel it, can you feel it floatin?
Without picture quotin, scriptures from revalation
Talk **** and got tha devil waitin
Body get stiff, so levitate
Why do i speak blasphemy?
Knowin one day that he'll ask for me
Ask for my sins
No one to feel his wrath for me
I go thru it, so you wouldnt do it...after me
As for me
Im still circlin tha block before im parkin
Not bitchin, im just still cautious
Same black parka, same uzzi, extra clips, still clappin wit that same larkin
Damn, i feel it in tha air, you not sincere
N*gga it aint an us, or we, or ima thing
Its a good/bad karma thing
This a song man ?ima say?
I swear i feel somethin honestly

[hook]
I can feel it in tha air
I can feel it in tha air
I can feel it in tha air
I can hear it in your voice
I can feel it in tha air

. . .



[Beanie Sigel talking]
Honor (honor), Trust (trust), Respect (respect)
Devotion (devotion), Friendship (friendship), Loyalty
(loyalty), Karma (karma), Team (team), Us (us), ROC
(roc), Silence (silence), tha 'eagle, bang
I can't go on this way (sung overlapping last line)

[Beanie Sigel]
Wit no union, and no benefits no dental plans
I can't eat off no hundred grams
I got cavities dat need fillin'
You can't feed a nigga peanut juice
Now put ya feet up in a nigga' shoes
A lack of green'll give a nigga blues
A sip of purple make a nigga rue
Nigga drunk person speak a sober tune
*I can't do on this way* (sung overlapping last line)
(Fuck dat, I can't do it man)
We make these tips off dis gift dat we cursed wit
But den my mind drift, am I defeatin' the purpose?
Could you feel like shit when you miss yourself 1st? shit
But who gon pay the bills? supply the mills? no surplus
My baby mama give me drama on the daily
Like she, makin' it barely and my kids is eatin rarely
*I can't go on this way*
(I'm stressed out gon' the what I can't do it)
If you put puppies in the oven, do dat make 'em biscuits?
Put hungry dogs in the kitchen, will dey eat the kittens
Do you hear me or you listenin'? Ders a big difference
Do you catch the lines and the hooks or are you still fishin'?
Des a couple questions dat I, need to be answered
Like, is dey backwoods and weed givin' me cancer
*I can't do on this way*
(I'm stressed out gon do what I can't do it)
My momma say I got a nerve stress
Got her wakin up in cold sweats
I'm hard-headed and iron
What make it worse my lil brother behind me
Blood pressure runnin like Harriet
She can't handle it
I got her screaming Lord Jesus like Nahalia
Son I'm tellin ya please don't let me bury ya
*I can't go on this way*
(I'm stressed man, I'm goin thru it)
I was taught trust in the law but still tie up your camel
Use your tongue as your sword and your books as your ammo
But when dem bullets start flyin and you got pussies around you
And who you rely on, got dem niggaz surround u? shit
And make me feel like young Tinner, from the start I was finished
How niggaz start wit a finish and begin wit a endin'
*I can't go on this way*
(I'm stressed out, I can't take it no more)
I'm movin ass backwards wit no forward progress
Feel asthmatic like kept mills keep joggin *Heavy breathin*
Stagnant, runnin in place is tragic
My heart in the faith I don't practice
I still pray along, forgive me for my actions
Cuz I still spit gangsta think Muslim and act Catholic
*I can't go on this way*
(I gotta still feel feed my young'n's, so keep huggin)

[Freeway]
I can't wait until the rain turn to sunshine
Cuz I hate to spend my life, my life, my life, my life
Stuck in one time, Free pat-rol the block
Get avoided by the government avoid the spent
Can't wait til rain turn to sunshine
Cuz I hate to spend my life, my life, my life, my life
Stuck in the box
*I can't go on this way*
Young Chris: (I feel you big homie, Young gunner)

[Young Chris]
Straight from the ghetto to ghetto
I'm from the youngaz be the ghettoist ones
Tryna make just as much as we could
Tryna make it but dey gon make it hard as much as dey could
Dat's why, dat's why
Dat's why I hate 'em man dey crackers ain't nothin without paper
Dey look at us it's nothing
*I can't go on this way*
(Came too far and I ain't goin backwoods for nothin)
I ain't bein distracted by nothin
Midget-size to Dikembe, I ain't back up from nothin
Ma I'm still stressin
It ain't the kid it's the bills stressin, she hold it down on her own
She hold me down at the crib, hold me down while I'm gone
She hold me down as a kid, hols me down while I'm grown
*I can't do on this way*
(I choose not, refuse not, down on my own)
Now off the streets, runnin wit the hottest label in the label in the industry
Da hottest label got a nigga 'lotta enemies
So now when I go in baseline
A nice-size ratchet to throw in wasteline
I gotta make mine
My bills ain't gettin paid in, kids ain't situated
*I can't go on this way*
(Ya'll better make a decision before us)
(B. Sig) Cuz the way dat we livin ain't all good
Ran away wit dem hatin ass niggaz don't like us
Despite dem, we gon do it regardless
But all dis comotion dey causin I ain't it wit
(We ain't wit it)
Dey can get it all it take is a column
My dogs'll be down if the rounds gotta unlit tho
*I can't go on this way*
(Someday gotta forget it tho
Consequences for my sentence gotta forgive us tho)
*Fades out*


. . .



[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


. . .



[Intro - Peedi Crakk]
P., P. Crakk Cocaine
B., B. Mack is back
Chad, Chad West on track

[Chorus 1 - Peedi Crakk]
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 Crakk]
Chain gang, gang bang, let my middle finger hang
Ain't nothin changed my name, P. Crakk Cocaine (P. Crakk 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, Crakk 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 Crakk, 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 Crakk]
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 Crakk]
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 Crakk]
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 difícil
Se pone, se pone, se pone muy difícil
Se pone, se pone, se pone muy difícil
Se pone, se pone, se pone muy difícil
Chain gang, gang bang
P., P., P., P. Crakk Cocaine
B., B. Mack is back
Chad, Chad West on track
Now let's go!


. . .



[Chorus - Snoop Dogg]
Ma! I think it's safe to say
You ain't seen a playa lay this way
Or playa game this way
Wit a attitude, like - and ya don't stop
Aficionado, so fashionable
Wit a confident swagger, international
Game so tight the girls had to go
And you don't stop!

[Verse - Beanie Sigel]
Hah! sicka than your average
Money too long can't stash it
In the closet or the mattress
Paper, stretch like elastic
Checks from advances, the bank can't cash it
So the price for that, never ask it
Just sign my name or pop plastic
Hating ass cops wanna harrass em
Searching for a glock in the pocket of his fashion
Bitches wit SP stitches on they asses
And they left breast (yes!)
Let's get dressed and toast to the occasion
Cops couldn't page em, flow so amazing, hot like cajun
You fucking wit the champ
Pop corks on champ' like I just took the chip
Nigga took the stand when he coulda took the 5th
Yeah eat a dick wit AIDs on the tip, keep my name off ya lips
Not guilty!

[Chorus]

[Verse - Beanie Sigel]
I said I'm sicka than your average
Keep three shooters like the Mavericks
Short to the point like Nash is, fucking wit a savage
Niggaz press they luck, get bucked like ashes
Three piece suits, linen fabrics
Three quarter croc, sharper than a pastor
B Sig bring the light to the masses
Of these rap bastards, who gives street passes
One shooting can lead to three caskets
Jump suits, state boots, at least three stabbings
You softer than a Reebok Classic
Folding under pressure when confronted by them badges
I was taught stay low and keep blasting
Po only know questions that was answered
Keep a number on the high price lawyer
It's five ways now days, everybody saw ya

[Chorus]

[Bridge - repeat 2x]
[SD] Now let's toast to the man, that when he get out
That he gon do them thangs that he rap about
A true playa Pha-real [Pharrell]
[BS] Haters stay out my face
And know that thing still by my waist

[Verse - Beanie Sigel]
Once again I'm sicker then 'em all
Niggaz see C's start shitting in they drawers
When I kick in the door, stop the blood clot crying
Wipe the piss off the floor
The ape is back, my gate is cracked
My jumpsuit and my cuffs is off
Yeah I'm back on them bricks
Raise your cups and raise your glass
And let's toast to the boy B Mack, yeah I'm back in the mix!

[Chorus]


. . .



[Deep Voice]
Caution
Do Not Mix Wit Alcohol
It May Cause Drowsyness
Keep Out Of Reach Of Small Children

(Verse 1: Beanie Sigel)
I Roll It Back, Crack A Dutch, Have A Sizip
Get Introduced To This Drink That I Sizip
Pearlmethozine, Wit Codine? Thats My Twizist
It Might Lean U To The Left, Or Make U Izitch
The Pearl Meth Wit The Tuss Some Like The Mizix
Caught Into They Phsyics, & How They Wanna Dizip
Yo Becareful, It Aint Ya Ordinary Liquid
The First Time U Sip It, U Mite Get Addicted
Matter Of Fact, I Know Ur Gonna Get Addicted
Cause Its So Sweet.Life Liquid, Plus Its Good For Ur Sickness
I Used To Watch My Uncle Sip It
Goin Through Itz That. In My Grandmothers Kitchen
Head In His Lap, Grandmom Bitchin
Pocket Full Of Scrap, Plus Scratchin & Itchin
Back When They Sip Broma Smoked Cheeba
Took ?????????????????
This One Is For My Real Mug Mixers
Who Get Screwed Up, My Thick Juice Sippers
Shout Out, To My Man Lil Flip
Big Mo, Project Pat & The Whole 3 - 6
Yea I Know About Them Texas Boys
Who Keep A Liter In The Cup, & A Heater In The Tuck
Think The Xanax & The Endo Sack, Make Me Slack?
Cocktailed Or V'd Up, Gettin Swiss Cheesed Up

(Chours : Rell)
Please Dont Blow My Highhhhhhhhh
(Blow My Highhhhh)
When Im Sippin That Purple Rainnnnnn
(Beanie: Dont Blow My High
Trust Me U Dont Know My Life)
Nigga Dont Blow My Highhhh, Dont Blow My Highhhhhhh
When Im Tippin That Purple Rainnnnnn
I Know It Makes Em Crazy, It Keeps Me Lazy...

(Verse 2: Unknown)
When Back In 94 As Bruce Steel Had His Gate Up
He Called Me Over To His House & He Poured Me A 8 Up
I Asked Him What It Was He Said Bun Get Ya Weight Up
This Is Lean, Them White Folks Call It Pearlmethozine
Shit But We Gonna Probably Drink Dawg Cuz Thats What We Be Doin To It
Now Take This Big Red & Pour About A 2 Into It
I Did 2's & 8's, What The Fuck Is U Trippin On?
He Said Man Thats The Ounces Of Caugh Syrup That U Sippin On
So Shit I Poured It I Sipped It, Then I Sipped Some Mo
I Fired Up A Green Monster, & I Hit That House
Started Relaxin, Shit & To My Surprise
I Was Noddin Out Lookin At The Back Of My Eyes
They Tried To Wake Me Up But Shit I Just Kept Yawnin
I Fell Out Of My Chair & Woke Up There The Next Mornin
God Bless My Nigga, Cause Its Then I Been Spawned
On My White Muddy Go But Cant Taste A Seed At All

(Chours : Rell)
Please Dont Blow My Highhhhhhhhh
(Blow My Highhhhh)
When Im Sippin That Purple Rainnnnnn
(Beanie: Dont Blow My High
Trust Me U Dont Know My Life)
Nigga Dont Blow My Highhhh, Dont Blow My Highhhhhhh
When Im Tippin That Purple Rainnnnnn
I Know It Makes Em Crazy, It Keeps Me Lazy...

(Verse 3: Beanie Sigel & Unknown)
Beanie: I Roll It Back, Crack A Dutch, Have A Sizip
Get Introduced To This Leaf In My Spliziff
No Stems, No Seeds, No Stizzicks
The Ultimate, Expierence Like Jimmy Hendrix
I Like To Roll Up, Cowboy Tradition
Or Burn A Peace Pipe, & Cythe Like The Injins
Or Burn A Big Spliff, Bob Marley Stile
Buffalo Soldier, Rosta Farey Stile
Smokes On Pizurp
(Unknown: We Sipz On Syzurp)
Get It By The 8, By The Pint
(Unknown: Or By The Kizurp)
Some Might Take Ya High, Or A Down
(Unknown: Or A Bizurp)
Whatever U Can Stand, Floats Ur Boat
(Unknown: Makes Ya Twizurp)
Yes I Fucks Wit U If U Smoke On Green
(Unknown: Or Sip On Lean)
Yea Whatever, Click Or Teen
(Unknown: Strip For A Scene)
Nigga Burn A Spliff One Time
(Unknown: Take Me & Swing Ya Big Body Benz
& Ima Swing Mine)

(Chours : Rell)
Please Dont Blow My Highhhhhhhhh
(Blow My Highhhhh)
When Im Sippin That Purple Rainnnnnn
(Beanie: Dont Blow My High
Trust Me U Dont Know My Life)
Nigga Dont Blow My Highhhh, Dont Blow My Highhhhhhh
When Im Tippin That Purple Rainnnnnn
I Know It Makes Em Crazy, It Keeps Me Lazy...

(Unknown)
Dedicated To Real Syrup Sippers
Boys Wit Big White Cups
Man They Boin For Mayn Or 10 Years Plus


. . .



[Chorus: repeat 2X]
Oh daddy
You know you make me cry..
How can you love me?
I can't understand why..

[Beanie Sigel]
That's what they yellin when they grab me
Eyes are swellin, cryin, tryin to stab me
Once they realize they can't have me
When I leave 'em try to let 'em down easy like
I snatch your heart so easy like Valentine
Can't get caught up in that loop again
Never letting Cupid in
Boo you buggin ain't no time to be lovin
Man the grip on my pistol only thing I be huggin
It's mack daddy not your daddy mack
Bitch you got it criss-crossed (scrap)
I ain't havin that
I can't have your back
Look how you act when I had your back
Picture me havin that back to back
I pimp proper like shrimp-lobster
Check out my pimp-posture
Even my limp proper, mama
I can't help what's runnin down your face
I moved your ass into that furnished place
Like you earned that space

[Chorus]

[Beanie Sigel]
God damn baby you had me
All the twirlies in the caddy used to take it back gladly
We was tighter than Tommy Buns and Keesha
You cleant my guns, count my ones, bagged the reefer
Shit I thought you was the one - you was my bitch
The one that never snitched
Taught you how to bust a fifth, shit
I taught you how to push a whip
Taught you how to suck a dick
Taught you how to fluff a brick
But you got more drama than a B-mama
Got me goin through the motions like C. Thomas
With the bullshit, he say she say
The bitch is mad cause my jams kick like Eastbay
Mad cause they mans got they kicks on replay
How you drop from celebrity status
Pushin Bent to niggaz in celebrity wagons
In them sucka type Jags
Now you fuckin type mad

[Chorus]

[Young Chris]
Oh mommy its so sad
We had it together
You had it whenever
That's yo bad
You fucked up
It wasn't meant to be
You lucked up
Told me at the end don't trust her
See that's when all the bullshit started
That's what three me in reverse, counter-clockwise
In my mind I swore that we would work
But I guess that I was wrong
Ran into a dead end
Unfaithful bitch
You fucked the nigga I was blazin with
Fugazied shit
It wasn't him it was the paper shit
Nowadays its all about the latest shit
That or they favorite...car
Or get paper from ball
Unless your label all that
And you labeled as stars
Makin the millions
Got them bitches willin to do
Whatever it takes
Takin it off or willin to screw
Whoever I bring
Guess it's a celebrity thing
But I was never ashamed
I was blessed with the game

[Chorus]


. . .



They say change gone come
but its a long time comin
my legs tired
hundred million miles runnin
on life's treadmill
runnin in place
but still i run wit the race
i think back on my wonder years
food stamps shorts of wonder bread
my mom dukes
young, wild, loose learned a less
i got my truths from the older heads
u went 2 church n took a different route
u got ya truths from out the bishop mouth
i drunk the juice that turn dish about
dem double duces turned my system out
and them zanies and the weed too
fuck it i'm still here

(Rell)
though its hard in the ghetto
dont you let go
cause a change gone come
said a change gone come
i know your tired of the waitin
hold ya patients
cause a change gone come
yeah i know it is

What it like
the big houses
the cars
the dog
pickett fence
and you his wife
but depict this life
you know them FEDS
got them pictures right
i know ya stressed baby girl
feel what you going through
cause if they kick in that door
you know you going too
cause every thing in ya name
from the phone bill
to the deed on the house
i gotta find a way to ease out
but you cant you feel trapped
you think back
was it really worth it
this lifestyle could you really afford it
you then lost 4 lives
yours and the 3 you aborted

(girl)
but its so




. . .



(Some guy talking)
Darling
Ya know, you give a man a reason for living
Not to mention, you take my picture
Now baby, but I give it to you because I love you
Ya know cuz the things that I feel so proud about
The things that you do
Ya know, like runnin' my car into telephone poles
Plus (?) I didn't get mad did I?
Y-Y-y'member, 'member when
W-W-When I tried to take my clothes to the cleaners
and on the way out
My very best pinstripe caught a nail
I didn't get mad
I was proud because you thought, enough of your man
To be in such a hurry
It made me feel grand, yes it did
Uuh I need you, I just need you

[Verse 1]
Uh
You know I was you're bread you're butter
And I ain't talkin bout dat bread I fucked up on you
Cause in my head man I swore I lucked up
Wasn't countin all the butter I spreaded on you
So true now, why would I play you bitch I made you
I'm not talkin bout the things dat I gave you
Clothes wit the labels, I brought you round Hov and da label
Spring water while holdin you're age koo
Naw I ain't tryin to degrade you
But you was a lost little girl n you're world boo I saved you
Ya pop owe me a favor, I basically raised you
From squada to Bentley-whippin
Ain't have to watch Cribs to see how I was livin
Me, so blinded ain't see the Robin Givens in you
Huh, shoulda seen the Ginger in you
Tried to off Beans like raw steam? Go figure
Youu take my dough, spend wit the next nigga you crazy bitch?

(Chorus #1)
And dis was the one I trusted
Who would ever think she would spread like mustard
Bitch I was your bread and butter
You shoulda tucked dat bread and butter
Ya know what?... Dis shit funny to me
It ain't nuttin but money to me
You lookin hungry to me
But I was your bread and butter
Bitch shoulda tucked dat bread and butter
Mm Mm Mm Mm Mm Mm Mm Mm

[Verse 2]
You got the whole town laughin at me, silly he
Silly to see got me feelin silly like Denise like
Oh what could it be in you, I see
N dis young P-Y-T
She got me L-O-V, E-T-K-O'd
Uh, like Teddy P. whatever she say goes
But I'm, ready to +Turn Off The Lights+
Close the door, on my pretty young need I more
Now peep game wit 'em, need, I, more
Gimme dat, E thy or
No Beanie Mac don't play dat crap wit these whores
She want me missin her (in my room) like the OJ's homes
But I'm on to my zone like O.J. Jones
Beano brown, cancel dis bitch, I'll buy another one
It's my world you lil squirrel tryna get a nut bitch
Do you- what bitch? Lil smut bitch
Got you're name ringin, spreadin like mustard
And I'm supposed to trust it after he touched it?

(Chorus #2)
I told dat ass +slow down+ like Puba
Now you're days are gray like the 4 pound Ruga
Bread and Butter, see I was you're bread and butter
F'laaay baby ya hips is gettin big
Now you gettin thin you don't care about you're whip
Cuz I was you're bread and butter
Shoulda tucked dat bread and butter
Mm Mm Mm Mm Mm Mm Mm Mm

(Bridge being sung)
So proud, of you.. a'ye-ah
I gotta say it loud, yes I do, a'yeah (yeah yeah)
When you do (do) What you do (do)
How do you know, What you know
Aw, shame on you
I need you (oh oh)
Mm Mm Mm Mm Mm Mm Mm Mm

[Verse 3 - Grand Puba]
Yeah
Now you know I was you're bread and butter
You had a shot to be my baby mother
Ain't no sorry I ain't Rueben Studdard
I can't apologize, it's multi-platnimum time
Takin all my shit and sendin you back to you're moms cryin
So don't cry baby dry, ya eyes
You tried to get all greasy like you super-size fries
So, pack ya shit
Leave the whip
It's been nice but listen ma I gotta defrost ya ice
Dats rite

(Chorus #2)

(Bread and Butter 4x)

*Mm Mm said repeatedly til fade to end*


. . .



I'm trying to climb the stairways to heaven like Led Zepplin
Find that polished treasure like Gerald Levert
I do my dirt so my kids see heaven on Earth
But the pain on my heart weighs heavy it hurts
Hope you see my good intentions for whatever its worth
Through self conviction when I mention my intentions in verse
Like a preacher or a deacon when he's speaking in church
Know there's a lesson that I'm teaching If you seeking my verse
Like the shock of the hour be a grievous thing
Like the dropping of them towers man its plain to see
That them cowards can't sing the song believers sing
They'd rather march and hold hands like ML King
The nigga in me like Malcolm Little said 'All Means Necessary'
So by all means I'm armed and my weapons ready
I got my lessons ready
Hoping I learn them before I'm laid to rest and buried
Have Mercy On Me

[CHORUS]
Please Have Mercy On Me
Oh Lord, Please Have Mercy On Me

Pressure bust pipes
Pressure can also make a diamond
Pressure can bust a man wrestling with his conscious
His self-accusing spirit of his past
(But I know the Lords Mercy is granted in his wrath)
So in that I not only pray for me I pray for he
My dear brother Robert help him with his problems
And the bumps and grinds
And the evil things and thoughts that run through his mind
Take a hand of my sister J. Blige
As I listen to her life go down watching her life spin round
On them records every track she sing in prayer
Give her no more drama let her rainy days be clear
Receiving signs from Osama that the days is near
When babies is baby mommas
Man them days is here
And means that them days is now
I pray that Allah have mercy when my day comes round

[CHORUS]

Please Have Mercy On Me
Oh Lord, Please Have Mercy On Me
We Need Your Mercy, I Need Your Mercy
For My Soul For My Soul

B.I.G P.O.P.P.A , P.A.C, LEFT EYE, J.M.J.

B.I.G. L, P.U.N, AALIYAH, R.I.P.


. . .



(Peedi Crack)
Uh Uh huh Uh Huh Uh
I'll box your fuckin' head off
Who gon' knock the kid off?
None of y'all which one of y'all come try me
I'll body little homeboy silence that sound boy
Come challenge me please I promise you a homi'
And I'm dipping in a bonnie' and I'm fresh out the county
And I just taught my mami how to shoot a lil' tool
So I hate for you to run up get one up in your stomach
That's one less bullet from my hundred shot UZ'
Put your finger in your gun shot wound
Run to spittle and tell 'em P Crack not COOL
He on that shit that 'ill make a dead man move
Stop train, airplanes fall dawg you gon' LOSE
I'm on my twist you on my list
I bring the wop out of the spot it's on like shit
That nigga crack back and imma pop off my blick
That nigga Mack back you need to hop off our dicks (BRAATT)

(Beanie Sigel)
Fresh out the federal cases I got several
About four or five just had to settle two
They said I try to show a nigga what the metal do
But didn't succeed the nigga still breath
Attempt please I would of hit him in his peas
With the Mac with the beam that got back in the breeze
Only clap from the neck up I'd let the heck-lar plug 'em
I don't think they made Kevlar scullys fuck it
I should of let the AR touch him cuffed him
To the bumper drug him two city blocks
The juice in me and the henny shot
Four perks' and a ?hitter ock?
You shoot first if you get the drop
Your deuce work if you hit the spot
Lose the nurse some one get the doc'
Remove his shirt his pressure drop
Check his vital sign his hemorrhaging finish him
FLATLINE

(Hook Beanie Sigel & Peedi Crack)
Load it up roll up BLAT boy flat boy (flatline)
Slow up all that rap 'ill get that boy clapped boy (flatline)
Oh no here we go another (flatline)
P crack B mack is back boy (flatline)
Get him up outta here rrring yea (rring yea)
Don't get plugged to that machine yea (machine yea)
Hold up he losing air (flatline)
Am I clear? (am I clear?) (Flatline) yea (flatline)

(Beanie Sigel)
B seig'll squeeze the eag' on you,
P crack let the Mack rrring on you
Paramedics breath over you
Machines gotta breath for you
Your faggot ass squad wouldn't bleed for you
Get flatlined I'm the wrong one
Short temper with a long gun
My blick longer that a W.I.C. line
Niggaz snitch when the law come
You better run when the boy come

(Peedi Crack)
RRRRIING!!
P crack'll test his aim on you
B mack just bang on you
Flesh just hang on you
And I don't know what u been told
But when my Mac unload
I'm guaranteed to turn a nigga cold
Got ten shots for the present and the top
Risin' off Porsche eleven about seven stops
Get back on this gat I throw it for my pop
I'm not lying don't get your ass flatline

(Hook)

(FLATLINE SOUND UNTIL THE END)


. . .



[Beanie Sigel
Court casin..
Third felony facin
No probation
My heart racin like a blunt lacin
Hennessy and malt liquor chasin
My gemstar scarrin niggaz faces
For a pound of trey eight and..
I throw bullets like Dallas Troy Aikman
The callous on my index stay achin
Niggaz stay hatin
Got me late night pacin
I'm tight boot lacin
Mask on like I'm Jason
Shoot up shit like Larry Davis
You play the pulpit like Pastor Mason
Turn cheek like Martin Luther
I'm like Oswald sharp-shootin
Got my eyes on my mark in the dark shootin
Beam illuminate the target movin
Get your organs ruined
Move out like SWAT move in
Got them niggaz on the back-block rootin
For the bad guy..
Playground legend like Sadait(?)
P. Kirkland...My MP state workin
Shootin-arm stay jerkin
My Nextel stay chripin
Can't answer cause the feds lurkin
Its like we catchin cancer on purpose
Back to back chain smoking, nicotine feinin
Conversation with demons when I'm dreamin
Manic-depressive
Like the man upstairs tryin to pass me a lesson
But I can't catch it
The game under break the pressure
They miss my presence

[Chorus 2X: Sparks]
We still not promised tomorrow
Takin the bitter with the sweet up in these cold ass streets
We got lifestyles through our scars
We ride hard til our numbers get called
The lifestyle of a hustler...

[Sparks]
I'm feelin like deaths in the air
Got me back to back buckin my squares
But I ain't bitchin I ain't scared
I ain't budgin, in fact the thrill alone turns me on
Got me smiling, laughin...Clutchin
My toast and confrontin mother fuckers
Cock-a-roaches will not catch me laughin
Skinny and slim fram y'all get it the same
Cool niggaz that'll spin out they waves
Grimey niggaz that'll spin to they graves
Justifyin my foul ways
I got kids to raise
But motherfuckers rather see me sprayed
Than to see me pair (fucker)
Or see me on the front page like Sig
Or stay rolled DC with B. Sig
You bitch niggaz stay PC when y'all see me
Until the day that they
Fit me in the grave and the city wreak of me
We got the city under siege
S-P or R-O-C
Poverty is a movie starrin me
Ride with no play the passenger seat
So y'all can see how my life so real
So y'all can see how my life so ill
(I came to chill..)

[Chorus]

[Oschino]
Tales of a hustler that's me in the flesh
Got a Jag and a Caddy sellin dimes of the step
Niggaz wanna take my block I had to earn my respect
So I put his cerebellum on his grandma's steps
You know Oschino he'll probly kill
Got the soul of Huey Newton nigga Bobby Seale
Nigga prolly take the stand he'll prolly squeal
But I got four lawyers I ain't takin the deal (Nigga)
We could strap without scrap or put the semi in it
Gun fully loaded like the Chrysler with the hemmy in it
I keep it ghetto like a 40 with the Henny in it
Went to school broke loafers on no pennies in it
Stood the coldest winter with the bummiest coat
Need food need shoes sold dummies of soap
Got tired of bein broke man life was a bitch
They bring you flowers when you head but no soup while you sick
So I switched my whole picture get involved with the bricks
Not the ones made of semen but the ones who sniffs
Tales of hustler, niggaz come for your jugular
If you sell one bag to they mother fuckin customers
State P we got the city on smash
Got every boulevard every street every ave
Got sneakers got clothes nigga you do the math
Push to hustle but the point is just to stack that cash
Tales of a hustler....


. . .



Intro:
Woman singing-I done Caaaame Up!

Beanie Siegel-
My head was knotty then
Nose snotty then
Sweats no pockets thin
Sweatin No problems then
Off the potty then
Watchin Karate then
Mutters playin Double Dutch
She Was Hop Scotchin then
Me?
Girl Watchin then
Cook and let her I,
Huffed back tryin to huff that, yes I,
Couldn't play wit cousin pooh,
They Thought I was mockin him
Grams said I was devilish
Been knew I was rotten then
School?
Been droped out, never really clockin in
Pops?
Been dropped out, never really stoppin in
Moms?
Tryin lock me out
Cops?
Tryin lock me in
Damn!
Devils run wit pellet guns, Drew from,
Sling shots in them
Sling Shootin them dice all day
Kept Crooks shot nice all day
Right Hook fight nice all day
Nigga left all night
To Keep money right all day
Breakin Night all day

Hook:
If you could look at me noooow!
Beanie Siegel-(If you could look at me now)
Nowwww!
We smoke at you youngin
If you could look at me noooow!

Beanie Siegel
Verse 2:

Yall was pop lockin then
Crard board boxin then
Me?
I was up in center 3-D Lockin them
Strong arm robbin then
Started car poppin then
Heed?
skinny tube, tell him pooch
Marley perkin then
Got in trouble past young
Willson Parks and them
Other Jets, different sets
Started sparkin then
I had the four 10 guage
My nickle Larkin then
Kyle made front page
Caught a spark from them
He got guaged in his leg
Still was walkin then
Aint talk shook it off
Kept sparkin them
Old Heads aint help,
We had more heart then them
We squashed that war
Got some wore
stayed apart from them
Now that I rap they give me decks
I'm thinkin pounds for clowns
you shake my hand like a grown man
yea Shee'd like tony and them old men
Mobb style for real
This is my life style for real

Hook:
If you could look at me noooow!
(Beanie Siegel)-If you could look at me now
Noooow!
If you could look at me noooow!




. . .


[Beanie Sigel]
Bare witness to the greatest, can't beat us join us
Keep heaters on us, with red lasers
Now far warning, short shots won't graze ya
We hug corners, play blocks like gators
With bundles on, serve tre's like waiters
It's the life we chose, the hustle
Can't stop it, can't knock it
Half the profit get flown out Vegas
Me and my niggas tryna break tables
Stack chips like Connect 4
While you pricks try and whip, tryna stretch more
Charge less for, that ain't the program
Get'cha lessons from the snowman
Like Pillsburry I get the dough man
I'll off ya head for a slice of bread
I keep my word and I'm true to my peeps
Gimme a bird and my crew 'gon eat
I'm over the stove like +Cuban Linx+
Breakin down +Cash Money+ like +Baby+ do
You niggas soft like baby food
'Round the world niggas pay me dues
While you niggas sing the same old song like Sadies do (Jay-Z: same song)
Grown man, nigga baby who?
I send you shots from the baby zoo
Old game like Grady fool, propane flow flame you dudes
No names don't claim ya shoes

Once again it's on nigga
Sigel hard like corn liquor
I take you out this world like you was born nigga
Butt-naked, covered in blood, gaspin for air, clingin for dear life
Nigga you dead right?

[Jay-Z]
Since you was a baby, coward
We been sprinklin the world with baby powder
+So Fresh and So Clean+
Been an +OutKast+ since I was a teen
But I outlast, cause I outblast anybody you bring
Young, you got it the prophet
I told yall niggas then I showed yall niggas
You +Can't Knock It+
Don't get carried away you a mute nigga (mute nigga)
Where was you nigga? I was doin this here like Mary J.
Like +Every Day+, It was true nigga

[Beanie Sigel]
They can't question what we do Jigga

[Jay-Z]
Once again it's on
Young run through you niggas, like a glitch in the computer nigga
I'm the shit I'mma sewer nigga, This is Jay everyday, no days off
Ferris Bueler nigga

[Beanie Sigel]
B Sig Fred Kruger niggas, nightmare ya medulla nigga
You scared? Cause I glue with Jigga
He said "Sig' you that nigga" couldn't see his vision
But then he drew the picture, like a compository sketch
Said if Sig stay honest I'll deposit you a check
It's a secret society, all we ask is trust
No G-Money shit, all we gots is us (we all we got)
True indeed, yes, more better, yes
More chedder, S-P chain, jeans, and sweaters
Movies, cartoons, labels, etcetera
Fill in the blanks and drop blocks like Tetris or
Get off the block run south with M. Betha
From my block to your block shout out to M-Extra
(Memphis Bleek: Who the fuck (fuck) want (want) what)
None of you niggas
It's B Sig prick I'm done with you niggas...

Once again it's on
Fuck we ain't through with niggas, twin towers here to ruin niggas
You couldnt break up the towers with Tom Donivich
Or Osama bombin' shit
We slay niggas with 'K's, we the drama men
Get it right young scrap don't even try it boy (boy)
You rather slide down a razor blade slidin board
I'm a livewire, hoolahoop barbwire
Run through hell with gasoline draws on
You can't mute me put the pause on
My gun shoot like fast-foward's on
You dress cute when the wars off
What you doin dog you playin wit it
You make ya bed right you layin in it
You keep your share tight, you stayin in it
You bringin niggas where ya kids sleep
I sing to niggas while the kids sleep
Roc-a-bye mothafucka
I hope you high mothafucka
Ready to die mothafucka
Who shot ya? Seperate the weak from State Prop to
Kids squash beef and rep the streets

[Jay-Z]
Once again it's on nigga, bring the drama to ya lawn nigga
Tell ya momma bye bye get ready to mourn sista, it's a
See what you got here is a full blown twista
You nothin but hot air, it's not fair
The reason while we lead the pack, this is a marathon
You start off fast, then you wheezin in the back
So even if I slack I got enough leeway to put out +The Reason+ by the +Mac+
Philadelphia Freeway and I'm back, without leavin and I'm here
But you can't see him, I gave you +The Blueprint+ but you can't be him
So no matter what you been told and the records you sold
Deep inside you know that it's only one Hov
Young veto, voice of the young people
If my life was a movie then +Sigel+ 'gon be the sequel
We bring it to ya door with Bleek peekin through ya peekhole
And don't get scared nigga, alert ya people

[Beanie Sigel]
Once again it's on

. . .



(feat. Cam'Ron)

[Running] [Breathing]

[Beanie Sigel]
Wanted, 100 miles and runnin'
Through the rain and the sunnin, when them feed folks comin
Keep your head up youngin', gotta keep ya heads up youngin'
The streets'll give your head up youngin'
Listen, flip your con 'tacs, stay focused like contacts
Your head's open for a contract
Can't go where mom at, the last place you wanna bring the dram at
The first place they gonna track I promise
Can't relax, but remain the calmest
Couple rules that your play by, stay by, stay live
You keep your boots on your laces tied
And only troop on the late night if you play right, you stay right, right
You never play the day light, jakes get on your tail
Never let them see the break lights
Catch me if you can when I'm dippin from the cops
Mr. Gingerbread never falling victim of the fox

[Chorus:] Wanted: Dead or Alive [2x]

[Beanie Sigel]
Wanted, but you can't stop runnin'
With a price on your head, be prepared to gunnin'
Don't be scared like the Red Coats comin' nigga
Stay underground and keep runnin' like Tugman
You can't sleep, not a peep, no slumber
Man I sleeped about a 100 hours rest this summer
No stress when your dealin' with the running
Waking up in cold sweats, pissed scared of the rumblin'
Fuck it, just prepare for the trouble
Don't be shit scared nigga with your head undercovers
This not a broad threat, I got something for 'em
On the steps with two tecs, this is not a warnin'
Nigga they close like camera flash
When the hammer blast, put on your State Prop camouflage
Crack the box or the avalanche, put on your Montana mask
Get to clappin' like it's Pakistan
What every strap, cause an accident
Make a traffic jam, dodge all the traps you can, keep runnin'

[Chorus:] Wanted: Dead or Alive [2x]

[Cam'Ron]
All you got to say is hide me, I ride free
I be, the one to change your birth, S.S., or ID (I got all that)
Ain't no more hangin' with the Y.G. State Prop
No Roc, private dock, incase you need an IV
No more Bent', that's Accord money, 420
Schemes can't afford money, money yous award money
Whether 90 or the first degree, any murder in the first degree
Well be the third degree, and they looking for the perjury
If you ain't merk the g, perfectly, you'll be in surgery
Take the seed out the nursery, nurse him at the precinct
Give 'em desert, that ain't where he deserve to be
And I went through this personally, certainly
3-2 for burglary, now it was referred to me
So they play us in no way, know way
Blaze up the roadways, A.C. and O.J
Read the paper, eggs and OJ
Call CD head of the O'Jays
That's a gipsy caps, risky all the chips we had
45 flee-flicker, we niggaz, hit the gas
When the operation go stale, ain't no jail
I did my whole album on bail (That's the truth )
I got you mac mittens, I send them a black ribbon
Attached to Mac spitten, I can't go back prison

[Chorus: Wanted: Dead or Alive (2x)]


. . .


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