E.R. - Message From The Block lyrics

[Intro] Yo E... I see you getting all these hoes with this music thing, man I see you making moves man, I see you coming up man Don't let these n***as forget how you be spitting, man Show them how you use to do back in the hood, k**ing everybody on these tracks homie Don't let them forget, man [Verse] Comin' out hard, literally slangin' eightballs Call me Mr. Big, Mr Big, as I take charge At the industry, with my nine millimeter boys Pimps in the house and you know we bring the noise And we destroy, anybody that oppose Cause everybody in the globe know Vagabonds run the show And them hoes they wanna roll, cause them boys, they gon' smoke My n***as carry it by the zone, there's always plenty more You already know, from the tre-oh-five, the place I call home No matter wherever that I go, I'm always chasing after the dough Kick in the door waving the four-four On that Biggie Smalls sh**, naw that ain't really my flow More like, rappity rapping, rapping my a** off 'Til you can't help but get up, clapping your a** off Standing ovation, on that Young Jeezy Got them saying "yeeeeaaaah", I make the sh** look easy n***as talking greasy cause they don't understand How they got more money than me but in my city they beneath me n***as straight "chisme", that's about as Spanish As I'll ever get on a track, homie believe that Where the weed at, where the tree wrap, naw I don't vibe on that Just give me the 1.5 so we can chop the loud pack n***as yelling timber, wherever that I land Bet you hear Mark Jackson talking 'bout "mama there goes that man!" Game like ESPN, easy as ABC Til the alphabet boys come and infiltrate me FBI want me for murder on all these tracks DEA want me for serving all this crack ATF want me for burners, fully loaded when I rap Sixteens, plus I pull elevens when I mack That is Jordan on the strap and that is your b**h on the track And that is them boys on the trap, how you think they make that scratch Ain't no jobs in Lil' Havana, so you either gotta rap Have a mean jump shot, sell crack, or know how to swing a baseball bat Either for a team, or for the set, the one you rep I roll dolo, still aiming for your neck Still claiming I'm the best, still ain't getting no rest Still pacing every breath cause every rhyme is a check And every line is a threat, to these s**ers well being sh** so dope, might as well triple beam it Might as well hit repeat b**h, and just vibe to it And then ride to it, even get high to it Cause I rhyme fluent, this that open up your mind music On your iTunes, I advise you, don't misuse it I been proving, for the past two years Ain't nobody grinding harder than this dude here And this you hear ain't even the half But I'll tell you the rest when we get to 10th Ave, n***a