Jay-z - Guess Who's Back lyrics

[Jay-Z talking] Talk to me man… This ya boy Young Hova, yo turn the muh'f**in noise up We'll get right into the proceedings this evening Headphones are distortin', bring it down a lil' bit Okay, now we workin' wit it The boy Face up in ba**line, Face — Mob Welcome to New York City It's ya boy Young Hov' chea Kanye West on the track Chi-Town, what's goin' on now Can I talk to y'all for a minute Lemme talk to y'all for a minute Just gimme a minute of ya time baby — I don't want much Lemme talk to these muh'f**as, uhh [Verse 1: Jay-Z] Guess who's bizack You still smellin' crack in my clothes Don't make me have to relapse on these hoes Take it back out to taxing them roads When I was huggin' it, n***as couldn't do nuttin' with it Straight from the oven with it, came from the dirt I emerged from it all without a stain on my shirt You can blame my old earth, for the sh** she instilled in me Still with me, pain plus work sh** she made me milk this game for all it's worth That's right, these n***as can't f** with me I'm calling guts every time, drag my nuts every time Homey, we make a great combination don't we Me and the Face Mob, every time we face-off Face it y'all, y'all n***as playing basic-ball I'm on the block like I'm eight feet tall Homey, I'm in the drop with the AC on That's why the streets embrace me dawg, I'm so cool [Hook: Kanye West] Guess who's bizack Back on the block with them O's Face Mob, Mack Mittens and Hov' Don't make me relapse Back to the block with the four Cause this street sh** is all I know [Verse 2: Scarface] From the womb to the tomb, a hot pot a jar and a spoon Trying to make me forty thousand and move Motels, star-studded, rock stars and goons Plain clothes wanna run in my room But n***a guess who's bizack, it's ya boy Face Mob Started with an eightball, gotta get this cake dawg Give n***as a break, nah; you know how the game go f** you think I slang for, to go against the grain, no I'm out here in grind mode, wrapped up in the paper chase I wanna f** a fine ho and candy paint the 88 Don't got no wholesale, cause that ain't how I wanna run it Here take these five stones and bring a n***a back a hundred Gotta see my feet dude, you do sh** a fiend do The fire get too hot in the kitchen, I hit the streets fool Money is an issue and that's on the fo' shizzle my nizzle Ya block warm, and I come by with the fizzle And make fo' sho' I get to work mines, a car at a time We go to war and you ain't making a dime Cause I got, sh** to lose; a n***a out here paying his dues My baby walking gotta get him some shoes It's a new game brewin', lemme give ya the rules Get outta line and I'mma give ya the blues It's a new game doin', lemme give ya the rules Get outta line and I'mma give ya the blues, whoa [Verse 3: Beanie Sigel] Guess who's bizack The boy B. Mizack, a.k.a. Mr. Crack-A-Brick Turn a whole one from a half a brick, look I mastered this You can smell it once the plastic rips A hot plate'll make ya swell up if ya gas get clipped You can make ya chips swell up, ya don't hafta pitch Play them corners like a safety, watch the traffic switch Young'n never pump fake, and you'll get past the blitz And keep ya whole hood on flip, like old box-spring Pissy mattress sh**, low old box of things Strictly gla**y sh**, I hug the block like quarter water sh** I used to hug a corner like a old deuce and a quarter Till like deuce in the morning, with the old heads Slangin' loose quarters, this Philly cat back at it Still f**in' with them crack addicts Still bustin' with that black-matic [Hook]