Yeah
Sup wit' these
lame-ass niggas, man?
I'm tellin' you
Niggas keep runnin'
to this rap shit
You kna' mean?
Like y'all built like that
Ya'll niggas betta
pick up a basketball,
or somethin'
Ya'll niggas ain't
ready for this shit
[Memphis Bleek]
If a nigga know the Memph
I ain't the type to front
I'll put any gun to you
What type you want?
Supply any drug for you
What high you want?
Bag any chick for you
Nicer slut
Yeah, I push hot fees
My niggas got cheese
You run around frontin'
Like you niggas got keys
You never flipped burgers
Your krew, I ain't heard of
Matter of fact, I'll murder ya
I heard you niggas spit shit
But it's indirect
Say my name
And see where I end this tech
I got a lot of love for this
But dawg, I'm real
When it's beef, it's beef
When it's rap, it's real
Nuttin' between
Alot of frontin' I seen
I done analyzed this game
It's nuttin' but schemes
New ways to sell records
I aim for it
Put it out if it's hot
Not, Just ignore it
[Chorus (REPEAT 2X)]
We them hustlers
And that's who ya'll know
We get low, get dough
Flip gold for sho'
We them gangstas
That's who we be
We got cheese
Pop three for R-O-C
[Memphis Bleek]
Yo, yo
This is my ghetto
I eat, sleep, breathe here
To tell the truth, dawg
None of us gon' leave here
We die young, go to
jail for murder 1
On a come-up, nigga
And that's where I'm from
I done learned from
that Puff and that
Lopez shit
I ain't runnin' in no club
on some loco shit
I'mma catch you when you sit
Put 4 in yo whip
Catch your girl in the club
Put nut in your bitch
Niggas wanna see the
Memph go and lose
his cool
Go and use his tool
Nigga, use the fool
You could bootleg my shit
I want me a chunk, deuce
I'm not a chump, I'll
leave you slumped in
the trunk
What part of that you
don't understand?
Or ain't hear?
Misinterpurate?
Dawg, I put WORK in
I got a name, and my shit
sound phenomenol
Still keep them thangs
Next to the abdomenol
[Chorus (REPEAT 2X)]
We them hustlers
And that's who ya'll know
We get low, get dough
Flip gold for sho'
We them gangstas
That's who we be
We got cheese
Pop three for R-O-C
[Bienie Sigel]
Uh, uh, uh
Yeah
Before these rhymes
I was bustin' these nines
Before these raps
I was bustin' my gat
Before the vocal groups
I spoke with the truth
Why do catz wanna
muffle my speech?
Imagine my raps
If I wasn't in touch
with the street
On the block, deep
Wit my peeps touchin' the heat
I'm used to crack, now
i'm slingin' raps
Huster wit beats
You niggas is lame
You catz can't touch what I reach
And quiet as kept
You niggas can't hush
what I speech
My story's too deep
Life real, clear as the streets
See my iced grill,
hear my voice clear
when you sleep
You niggas know me
The cat who be
tearin' these streets
AIN'T NOTHIN' CHANGED
But my name when I
appeared on these beats
It's Bien Mac
Sigel was the name
that they gave me
The streets that is
I'm tryin' to teach that, kids
Cause some niggas
don't know that they
be clowns
Ay yo, the sun don't go down
WE GO ROUND
[Chorus]
We them hustlers
And that's who ya'll know
We get low, get dough
Flip gold for sho'
We them gangstas
That's who we be
We got cheese
Pop three for R-O-C
We them hustlers
And that's who ya'll know
We get low, get dough
Flip gold for sho'
We them gangstas
That's who we be
We got cheese
Pop three for R-O-C
We them hustlers
And that's who ya'll know
We get low, get dough
Flip gold for sho'
We them gangstas
And that's who we be
We got cheese
Pop three for R-O-C, nigga
The lyrics on the most recent version are sanctioned by the composer, or owner of the rights to the lyrics, however, there may be lyrics that are more complete on the prior version(s) that have been submitted by a contributor to mp3lyrics.org
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