Styles P - Toney Sigel (The Barrel Brothers) (Remix) lyrics

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Styles P - Toney Sigel (The Barrel Brothers) (Remix) lyrics

[Ghostface k**ah] Yo, straight out the ghetto, I'm damn hood I Stack-A-Dollar like a whole rack of canned goods Baggy jeans, no Timbs, A.C.G. boots Living in the Crack Spot, banging at Sheek Louch The narcotics is far from garbage Whether it's cold or it's late August My sh** is fresh cuz I catch the harvest My little cousin bubble Swatches and carry a couple oxes Keep a duece-deuce by his ankle and get it popping You know, we be the boys clocking the graveyard shift Big bundles, counting our CREAM, burning the lazer spliff My man, jumps out the whip with the A.R. fifth And we barred from plenty of parties cuz we start sh** Parole hoes, six months in the box My little sister got her head shaved off She made it home from shop We selling cartons, Pampers, Similac formula Anything it take because the paper keep calling ya Gangstas keep balling for sure, we want more We make it rain from the tech and wop The Lex pouring and the precincts don't have enough cups for us To slow us up, they hit us with dust Then they rush, bust, my big man Ron'll break the cuffs Three-hundred pound n***a, po-po has to f** him up They say that my projects shall undergo therapy We never voted, we voting for Oprah, Obama, and Eric B [Styles P] The ill rap n***as that k** Destroy sh** but they able to build Come f** with the real Coward, better play your part This sh**'ll lace yo' heart Get hit with a Ghostface dart And you better live this sh** to fullest Or be ready to pull it Or be hit with a B. Sig' bullet The ill rap n***as that k** Destroy sh** but they able to build Come f** with the real [Beanie Sigel] It's the Broad Street Bully and the k**ah with no face My mack bullets burn like tequila with no chase My knifework like a guillotine sword cutting n***as stop fronting for my k**a Beez swarm something Bzzz, empty out the whole clip then reload Shotgun barrel leave it smoking like a broke stove Yeah, and I'm all about that bullsh** The casket, the hearse and the pastor in the pulpit I k** a n***a at the drop of a dime Just imagine what I do for a quarter Ain't no telling what I do for a dollar Pop a n***a right in front of his mama Son a n***a right in front of his daughter And I'm nothing like the father He couldn't come from these nuts I got Or see Baltimore s** this co*k I know most of y'all wouldn't understand Get it... get it... understand Yeah, some n***as will, and some n***as won't Like some n***as k**, and some n***as don't You'se a fake until you make it type of n***a I'm a straight up take it type of n***a Pistol whip a n***a 'til I break it type of n***a I'm hard on chumps, most these dudes is f*gs Put the guard on punks, push the broom up they a** Or the knife like American meat American Sig', it's m**m, so I ain't feeling Bush overseas I think with the wisdom of Malcolm, got the soul of a panther So "By Any Means" is the anthem, you gon' have to cut me out the track Like cancer I can't stop, won't stop, this how we do it from Philly to Shaolin All my n***as swap in (Yeah n***a) [Solomon Childs] Guns imported from Dubai, wheelchairs and sh**bags Peach Snapples and pretty scapals Renaissance, I'll stick a pick in ya gut at the chapel Or blow a n***a for a box of Huggies Cop k**as with a box of dummies Gummies, stuck to the project floors n***as is suited up and we ready for war