Styles P - Beats to My Rhyme lyrics

[Intro] S.P. this where it started at, on the microphone? Rip a n***a, make him scream (Yeah Poobs, let's get him n***a) [Styles P] Beats to the rhyme, street full of crime Rap or the gat I got heat for your mind Beats what a n***a got asleep on your spine On the creep and the grind, rap the work or double up Hit you with a scar on your cheek, watch it bubble up Man pull the Hummer up, shoot any runner-up Real cool n***as but we might f** the summer up n***as wonder what I'm involved in See me all alone when I'm runnin in Harlem Bronx and Queens, f** that I live life like I'm starving You don't like me, f** you n***a! I don't trust you, I cut you or bust you n***a I shoot up where you hustle n***a, f** the program up Rob all your workers, cut yo' grams up You dealin with big n***as or pig n***as P don't give a f** when it's time to jig n***as (I don't give a f**) You dig? n***as big Run up in the crib and wig n***as and I don't mean fake hair You can bet that I'm goin, they said that there's cake there Might as well get them candles out; we ain't makin a wish We sayin a prayer cause I blammed you out - what? Guess who back? It's P with the P-91 38 Specials, the extra gat In the souped up Mirada n***a, extra black - what? You know You know who I am I'm that n***a! (Ghost) Poobs we out