| Disc 1 | ||||||
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| 1. |
| 3:26 | 
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| 2. |
| 3:37 |
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| 3. |
| 3:51 | 
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[Verse 1 - Styles P] (Sheek Louch)
When there's beef I'ma ride and won't slide 'til I'm debtin you (P swallow your pride), my pride ain't edible F**k with my life, I'm stressin your death Cut his guts out, wrap his intestines around his neck You wanna gun who (*laughing*), what? Shit it's the ghost and my style's like the art of Water Block Sun Soo It's the ghetto godfather, priest in the hood Cross the line that's your spine, I'm the beast in the hood Don't consider that I rap, just consider I'm strapped And I squeeze at your brain, face, rib and your back Dog we can keep it brief get straight to the beef I'm so deep they see the pain in my eyes when I'm sleep I made a vow to the streets at a very young age That I would always use my knife and I would let my gun blaze Got niggaz that'll ride with me, die with me, thug with me Bust off they hammers, still sell they drugs with me My niggaz is real they all'll see the judge with me Nobody in rap, cause all my niggaz thug with me (nigga) [Chorus - Sheek Louch] + (Jadakiss) We gon' keep flippin our cars (weighin the odds), uh Bustin our guns (raisin our sons), yeah Bringin the storm (changin the norm) Niggaz is ass (let's get it on) Walk with me (I) Keep flippin our cars (weighin the odds), uh Bustin our guns (raisin our sons), yeah Bringin the storm (changin the norm) Niggaz is ass (let's get it on) Walk with me (I) [Verse 2 - Sheek Louch] (Styles P) We chase niggaz through malls Clap niggaz through walls Y'all want it with them D-Block boys Put the brown things up in you like Chips Ahoys Listen I'ma thug and I'm proud Y'all niggaz "Fashionably Loud" I don't give a f**k what kind of shirt that is I'll put the barrel to your kids and your wiz Watch them float, fish takin bites of they skin Little holes in they chin You in the mirror tryna see if they spin Niggaz is ass, tell a nigga drop the top and stop Roll the windows down, get rid of the cop I'm in the hood like boots on niggaz cars Gats on niggaz waist, you couldn't even tell that we stars Break down food, pizza, whatever it be I love my niggaz and they love me (get off our dick) What? you ain't gettin the point I think I'll give it to you Right in your waist and hand your f**kin liver to you, yeah [Chorus] [Verse 3 - Jadakiss] (Sheek Louch) Uh, uh, uh, uh, hey yo this is why I claim no slums (why?) Cause I could sit back, knock off a half a brick, and chew Rainblow Gums And the color of the Benz will kill ya, it's gold When it's movin fast it look like silver, I'm low With the trey pound next to my nuts A shotgun ridin shotgun on the seat next to my dutch I swear for God the Mag'll bust Niggaz know 'Kiss flow been crazy like a bag of dust Y'all industry-tuitionalized My niggaz is real, real niggaz see the truth and the lies Aimin for your head (but really tryna shoot out your eyes) With every Tef, then stomp out whatever is left And sometimes I say shit that I shouldn't But I never said that I couldn't Turn your chest plate into pudding And all my niggaz'll spray Except women, so the reason y'all living, cause y'all niggaz is gay, uh [Chorus] |
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| 4. |
| 4:02 |
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[Kay Slay & 50 Cent talking]
Yo, yo, yo What the f**k poppin' man This the Drama King man Yo who there, who dat, who there man? (Yeah, yeah, it's 50 Cent nigga) Muthaf**ka (What's up man) Uh, Harlem to Queens muthaf**kas (Heh, What's up nigga) And I'll smack the f**kin' shit out your favorite DJ man Y'all know what the f**k it is man (Yeah, yeah) (And, and say somethin ya bitch-ass nigga) Yeah, street justice muthaf**ka (Yeah, go ahead, say something) Yo, yo, check it out fifty You handle the bitch-ass rap niggas I'ma handle the bitch-ass DJ niggas (Alright, alright) We gon' bring justice to the game (That's how we gon' put it down) Straight muthaf**kas [50 Cent] That's the sound of the man, cockin' that thang - that thaaaang That's the sound of the man, clappin' that thang - thaaang Yo, in my hood we was taught not to say who shot ya See the flash, you heard the shot, you feel the burnin', I got ya Say a prayer for me if you care for me 'cause I'm on the edge I'm finna put a shell in a nigga head I rock a lot of ice, I dare you to scheme on it The fifth got a rubber grip and a beam on it Homie that took the hit on me couldn't shoot this Say I'm skinny now, but I look big in the coupe-dee My 'causein Uzi out in L.A. done tripped and do the sets again Got shot the f**k up tryin' to rob the wrong Mexicans I write my lifestyle, y'all niggas is cheaters Your lines come from feds, felons and don diva Oh you the black hand of death, then why your name ain't preacher If you a pimp like kid, why them hoes don't treat ya If you wanna ball like Kirk, now shorty let me teach ya This flow's God sent, it's bound to reach ya [Hook] Problem child, I'm familiar with problems I know how to solve em Semi-automatic, luger tray, revolve em Shoot em up, rob em In the hood we starvin, you don't want problems Problem child [Bridge] [Singing] And why can't you be man enough To tell me where you're comin' from [50 Cent] They say you can never repay the price for takin' a man's life I'm in debt with Christ, I done did that twice I'm nice, y'all niggas can't hang wit fifty +Blaaat+, y'all niggas can't bang wit fifty Say I'm born to rhyme, there's a shell and a nine Face stone and the cross, there's a bitch I tossed See the wounds in my skin they from a war of course You can check C-N-N for the "War Report" See the drama got me ridin' with a sawed-off shottie Catch you at the light, I blow ya ass off the Ducati Man, niggas ain't gon' do me like Sammy did Gotti I do it myself, I don't need no help Give me a knife, I'll get rid of your neighborhood bully Give me a minute, I'll take a f**kin' car with a pully See the hood is the deepest stole my innocence young Niggas jumped me 'cause they couldn't beat me one-on-one [Hook] [Bridge] [50 Cent] I must've broke a mirror at three and had bad luck for seven 'cause pops slid, mommy died before I turned eleven This cities split 'posed to let black cats cross your path The footprints in the sand is Satan carryin' your ass I got "God Understand Me" tattooed in my skin When I die, come back, I'ma tattoo it again I'm the young buck that let the gun buck Roll the window down and say: "'Sup up, niggas get ready to duck" My heart is a house homie, fear don't live here Nigga believe me when I say I don't care Muslims mix a lot, God studied they lessons Even when my luck's hard I still count my blessings See that look in my eye, ya betta keep on steppin' Spent time on my cell floor, to sharpen my weapon If you pussy I'ma smell you when you come around here Them boys in Pelican Bay couldn't live in my tier [Hook] |
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| 5. |
| 3:34 |
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| 6. |
| 3:16 |
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7. |
| 4:06 |
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[Intro: Nas]
Check {*scratched*} check it out Kay-Slay! (yeah) What up, baby Uh, (check it out) Ame' Haha, Bravehearts, c'mon [Chorus: Amerie] Said it ain't too much for me To have you next to me I can't believe it All the things I do To keep you loving me And it's just too much for me To not have you by my side Cause no matter what you're going through You know that I'm gon' ride yea [Verse: Nas] You a brave girl? I'm a Braveheart In craw heart and Champion Hoodies You in the Benz Buggy with the fullies I ride beside ya, we about to pull a all nighter I'm +Super Freak+ like +Rick James+ Sex in rangers, parked on dangerous blocks You like it when the strangers watch Im' looking out for cops, you a girl with no fear People put ya hands in the air for the GQ man of the year That Bentley or Polstry Leather The leather that be up in the coats I wear Wherever I go so there ya have it Cashmere fabrics, never caught in last years garments Holsters under armpits, chauffers and the charms lit And a coat is holding on the Don's wrist She got the ill Will chain on Turqouise boots saying "God's Son" This the theme song [Chorus] [Verse: Baby] You know the size of this shit, I flips it quickly Lose this trouble 'fore these people get with me Holla at my hoes cause I dip my bitches From gold to platinum from rag to riches I'm the boss of the boss, the pimp shotcaller Worldwide Rider in a Benz with a spoiler In your city tear yo mall up Pimp fly bitches and tear their walls up Dress nice I'm super neat Ice on white wit 3's on her feat Worldwide Rider, I'm coast to coast From Europe, Japan, I gets that dough Send out 2 I get back 4 Yo broad around me I'm a lace that hoe Smoke 'dro, redo my whips Redo my chips this the bird man bitchch [Chorus] [Verse: Foxy Brown] BK I throw it up, if we stay Manoloed up Cris air canary, all these niggaz hear me Lou Vuitton, Lou Batten Bring fever cock sucker when Foxy throw it on I speak how I feel I'm a Fox 5 General Y'all rap bitches is all so subliminal That's why I ones them everytime I pass 'em Frontin wit young G the Fox 5 Captain So which hoe wanna f**k wit huns? So come we dun ta push a dem one by one, whoa Now make me bust off mi big Magnum Spray off in the lobby, call us the Shower Posse The Don Gogen, come through styling hard But 2 goons from the Sherlock Squadron It be a bachelor that Fox them sparring And leave y'all niggaz on the sideline starving [Chorus] [Bridge: Amerie] I-I-I wanna get to know you I-I-I want you with me I-I-I just want to show you You belong to me I-I-I gotta get to know you I-I-I have you with me I-I-I just want to show you You belong to me [Chorus] |
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| 8. |
| 3:29 |
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| 9. |
| 1:47 |
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[Eminem - talking]
I'd be a horrible mixtape DJ I would be really f**kin bad THIS IS MOTHERF**KIN EMINEM! Or just Eminem Whatever you want to call me And your listenin to the motherf**kin easy listenin sounds, or whatever Clear your f**kin ear wax out This is motherf**kin DJ Kay Slay The Drama King and it goes a little somethin like this Yo turn that click off, alright a| (*beat to Eminem, Obie Trice & 50 Cent's "Love Me" starts*) Look .. [Eminem] My music is soothin but it's also been proven That it can put you in the mood to jump outta ya car while it's movin You've been waitin on this moment, my sermon is like a omen, I'm servin, I'm Erick Sermon I saw the window was open and I jumped through it My shit if you don't get pumped to it I quit, here's my rhyme book go head and thumb through it And pick what you want from it, rummage ya find somethin You can use to jump someone and roll up bumpin I'm constantly coppin over you, squatin, shit is gotten to the point, where I'm ain't even writin no more I'm just jottin This is chicken scratch Shit is sickin, I've been kickin ass off bullshit, throw away rhymes, pick a batch I live for the love of rap You crazy? I've made beats for Jay-Z for free Page me, you need a beat You Canibus? then it's Dre's beat You Kay Slay? the fee's waived I stay beefin with JD to the day Dre two-ways me That it's ok to stop blazin him Oops I put it out I apologize now is too late G It's on tape and the tape leaked "Say what you say" motherf**ker Drama King, Kay Slay motherf**ker We dictate these mixtapes motherf**ker Xzibit blaze this little gay midget cocksucker |
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| 10. |
| 4:01 |
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| 11. |
| 5:38 |
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| 12. |
| 4:09 |
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(Poster Boy)
Poster Boy, Fosterville, Kay Slay the Drama King F**k with the kid, gotta throw ya moms over the bridge RP put the hawk to ya over ya ribs Keep thinkin' that the god is chillin' I'm the reason custies is comin' to the Carter Buildin And it aint no tellin what I do They may find ya body on 16th smellin like a (*jew*) I'm the number one stunna when it comes to the east In the Jag with the .40 cal under the seat Nigga this is my block, Name a nigga who run me out Friday come, you and you have your money out Son, my gun'll bring a playboy bunny out Somebody gotta die, I'm a try ya hunny out Send her to ER with half her tummy out No C-section, no infants comin out She cant have babies again Me and Kay gettin money so its feelin like the eighties again Holla! (Shells) Ayo, You boys is silly, i'm next since Pac and Biggie And I'm Bout Major Figgas like Dutch and Gillie Catch Shells all-star weekend down in Philly On my hip, pack heat like a bowl of chilly Look - I Clap milli's, act willy, you a chump Only kid in the hood with elevators in his truck See, I flash bucks, rock all black doors And my watch ice'd out like Jacobs store When you boys gon learn I got this game lock What you got for your deal, I spent on X-Box Keep frontin like you hungry, I'm a feed you a biscuit I got rock and roll bullets, leave limps like bizkit So hey, its ya life involved - act like it is My chain light gray like trash can lids If one of yall take my chain - none of yall live You like, "I aint do it Shells", One of yall did! (Grafh) 'Cause A lot of yall are fakin', one minute is asolama laken 2 minutes later is where's my salamy bacon Niggaz swear the product the makin' requires rockin a aprin They liars cause its Betty Crocker they bakin Not that I'm sayin that I Cook, Cause I dont I keep it as raw as you seen it before it was put on the boat The hookers'll open they jaw for free F**k being a gentleman, ya girlfriend open the door for me When a pimp walk the beat, you shut up one day The day the dick had ya mother next up one way I come up one way drunk pushin a porshe Make beef and i'm cookin the sauce - Gravy! I be lookin like a boss I pop at ya hood on ya snorkle til I have the fur lookin like a scarf Lookin like I robbed 'em Tell cops is easy to find like chinks in a nail shop Holla, cheah! (Cassidy) Ayo, get back get back for I click clack click clack Where that shit at? Get that 'for I bust shots! Get crunk if you want to, drunk if you want to Front if you want to, And get slumped with the gun too Gimme mine cause any time I could run through And put ya brains on the mini blinds in sun roof Try run dog, you can try hide man But when I bust the gun dog, you gon die man I drinkin rum dog and I'm gettin high man Say good bye man or a prayer - "Aman" Look It aint hard to get at you dudes I screw waitresses that'll slip shit in ya food I got yay for sale and I got crazy shells I got it locked from Illadelph to ATL The wait is over, I'm a take it over I'm a bubble like vinegar and baking soda Easy! (Jae Hood) Ayo, I'm a D-Block nigga - I don't respect wack rhymes If you had a gat in a clock, you couldn't kill time Yall cowards don't want beef, why even start? Yall like dicks in the pool - none of yall hard Come thru in the spit white 330 with a mean birdie Holdin my hammer cause she know its dirty You got questions, holla at me - I tell you whats what Lay you on ya back and yall chumps'll really see whats up On the real, yall niggaz better chill Think ya crew spittin flames - I'll put ya hot dogs on the grill It gotta be a conspiracy if niggaz aint feelin me Like a nigga with no eyes - yall not seein me Call me a director - I give clips to ya broad Bullets is like gum - How they stick in ya jaw Go 'head, call the narcs - I put a hole thru ya heart And leave you on the train tracks in a shopping cart This aint just beats and bars, Its things i'll do to you In Compton f**k, I'm tryin to get through to you The gauge'll open ya chest like vics How you went from being soft to hard - niggaz is dicks I don't wanna hear nothin bout ya coke and ya toast Liars get shot in they tongue - I'll put the mack to ya throat motherf**ker! |
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| 13. |
| 3:39 |
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[E A Ski talking]
Yay, Yay Wassup Kay Slay, Its the big homie E A Ski Ya know, And I brought some West Coast riders with me That'll ride on ya bitch ass You got a problem with Kay, You got a problem with us nigga Ya know, Got MC Ren and the West Coast Kam Hey yo Ren spit it [MC Ren] Nigga who tryin to f**k with the Ville' Grab my dick, F**k this trick and slay my scrill Slap the taste right outta ya grill When I'm f**kin' with Kam and Ski nigga shit is fa real Straight blastin' fools with these West Coast shots Compton and Watts, My Bay niggaz got glocks Niggaz runnin' an yellin' an screamin' an shit an cussin' Ren smoked a blunt while Ski and Kam was bustin' Now you bitch ass niggaz ain't sayin nothin' When we pull to the curb, Nigga stop gruntin' This West Coast shit, Cant be f**ked with Or duplicated, You bitches can hate it Mothaf**kin Villian is back with Ski While he blast with his back to me West Coast drive-by, it happens like everyday Bitch ass mothaf**kas gettin' chased away It go [Chorus: MC Ren] Woop, Woop Thats them f**kin' police Woop, Woop Them bitches comin' for me You know the West gone ride Nigga hit'em up Bitches run from the drive-by When we pass by Nigga Woop, Woop Thats them f**kin' police Woop, Woop Them bitches comin' for me You know the West gone ride Nigga hit'em up Bitches run from the drive-by When we pass by [E A Ski] I've been known for the AK, Glocks, and Tech's Hit ya block up, Leave a nigga soakin' wet So I'd watch niggaz scatter like roaches with the lights on You on the block, But you won't make it back home You better hope that this bullet got God in it, (Pray) And I miss, When I got my f**kin' eye on it And I'm shootin' to blow the back and the spine out It's all real, I would hate for you to find out Who the f**k makes it happen Uhh, Its West Side nigga, This drive-by is whats crackin' And the corners is gettin' caught off The funeral homes is gettin' rich off the costs Dogg, Lay you flat down Empty out the clips 'til you hear the (Click) sound Uh-huh, You better know who the f**k you dealin' with, (Who's that) It's Mr. Ski, The West Coast Kill-A-Bitch [Chorus] [Kam] Niggaz hate me for the bank I'm foldin' The rank I'm holdin' The dank I'm polin' They just hate to see a gangsta rollin' I gutter ball like I'm bowling, Collectin' my ends Tryin' to throw strikes at all these redneck white pins In the Beamer or the Benz, Wagon or the truck 'Til my people delevered, Man I don't give a f**k Stay pushin' the line with mine Treat peeps I'm with good Anti-Hollywood and I keep my shit hood A true thug, Ya gotta admit it I bail into a club tennis shoes, jeans, white tee and a fitted Tryin' to get it crackin', Wassup, I'm sayin' You tryin' to go or what, I mean, You playin' Dyke girls actin' like niggas, Niggaz actin' like bitches So I just kick back and keep stackin' my riches Focus on my chips and give niggaz real talk So Bloods can skip to it and the Crips can still walk [Chorus] [MC Ren] It go Woop, Woop Thats them f**kin' police Woop, Woop Them bitches comin' for me You know the West gone ride Nigga hit'em up Bitches run from the drive-by When we pass by Nigga, When we pass by Nigga, When we pass by You bitches run from the drive-by Drive-by, Bitches run from the drive-by Drive-by |
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| 14. |
| 2:51 |
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| 15. |
| 3:39 |
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| 16. |
| 3:43 |
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| 17. |
| 5:02 |
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| 18. |
| 5:45 |
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[Sauce Money]
(*Laughing*) Brooklyn This is the set-off Kay Sleezy Take it to the streets nigga Word up Sauce Money Uh, uh Proper set-off Don't get it f**ked up 'cause Sauce calm wit his grandma 'cause I'm like baking soda bitch, I'm armed with a hammer And when I'm strapped fool, f**k your brother 'cause like Jimmy Ivene in Virginia you in the scope like a muthaf**ka Fine, niggas don't wanna let him shine Niggas hate that fact Sauce don't give a f**kin' nine Soon as he ran his mouth, one tre pound seven to nine Guess who's the odd man out I guess we got something in common I'm just a little more calm when I'm about to split your arm in Put a hole so big in your noggin That if you God body, you can fit the whole sun, moon and star in You starvin' for more lyrics I know Steady robbin' all them lyrics I flow I'm Sadam-ing all you niggas fo sho You betta know I'm a true nigga, please do nigga Betta inquire from a few niggas 'cause bitch, I done shit on quite a few and quieted a few niggas Get a grip, dead four-fifth in the hip Slip, never picture me fallin' nigga don't trip [Killer Mike] Stoned is the way of my walk In a mini-mack eleven, the tone when I talk When I spray niggas pray, lay on the sidewalk Color blood red, body outlined in chalk My rhymes, two zigs all nines Hard hit when they spit, split wigs double time This eightball's a strict nine Tear apart body parts when I spark nine At they head hard lodged in they damn spine Leaves emcee's like Christopher Reeves, crippled and cryin' Shittin' in a bag and a breath away from dyin' Nigga I'm - the epitomy of raw rhymes The epitomy of rap rock I make a block party bop to the sounds of a hot glock From New York down to Georgia it don't stop Killer Kill from Addamsville with a hot glock Blaaat! [Bun B] They say murder is the case they wanna throw me I guess these muthaf**kas don't know me O.G. rock called a yay slanger VA's finest Underground muthaf**kin' king call me "Your Highness" I tear your sinus with this gun powder Wipe your tears with the steal, no fear this is real niggas Here is the deal: you clear in this field And ain't stoppin' until every hater here is revealed 'cause we don't need no f**kin' clearance to peel Or shortstoppers runnin' and the fear is revealed So - get off this block homie handle your corner Keep all your heroin, rocks and you mariju-wana I'm like a - character on the Sopranos or the Wire You'se a - big pussy lil' man, it's over, retire 'cause the - clock's tickin', your days is done But we know all them lil' different f**kin' ways you slum But it's trill downtown, your momma's all free Your house is sugar-layin' with your wife and your seed Yes indeed, Big Bun is on a home invasion You gon' bleed on my gun from your dome abrasions 'cause my chrome is blazin', I'm naughty crunk Got the bop gun like Sir Nose D'Voiddoffunk Bitch, I pull a sawed-off from under the waist Open your eyes muthaf**ka, you got thunder to face F**k rest, we gon' lay these muthaf**kas to waste You bit the pully nigga tell me, how the f**k did it taste From my gun... Big guns, big power M. Woods, sixth hour Berettas, Tauruses, Rugers Smith and Wesson's, glocks and lugers AK's, AR 15's Mack elevens and M-16's High caliber, so why try it? You live by it, so you die by it A muthaf**kin' gun... [WC] Who's the man with the strap in his hand Homie's stolen semi-autos and contrabands All day every day, crossin' my hood in day In a six-trey with my nigga Kay Slay Dub the law scan, the infrared scanner Hangin' out the window, hittin' em up with the bandana And I can't stand a snitch so I - clean the lid Just in case them bitch niggas wanna sing with this I stay on the trigger, 'cause lames hate me nigga They can't pay me nigga, where my lay dates nigga Where AK one-on-one so thirty shot Nine millimeter Melindas aimed ready to send ya So put your can on your vest like a Bible and pray slowly 'cause this'll leave your teflon holey With the forty glock ready to ring, bring the trauma to the scene It's the Ghetto Heisman and the Drama King [Joe Buddens] It's about that time nine-milli clappin' Dude, what's really crackin'? I been gettin' it since 'Paid In Full' was really happenin' I gotta do it like that to keep my street name And pride made me kill Wayne Growe when the heat came I don't smut but stimulation is good I keep the hammer with me, Joey's renovatin' the hood Difference between us, I'm gettin' loot on tours Good shoes on the Beem, you got a boot on yours Dudes with no names wanna put an end to me But doggs, I'm readin' between the lines, the whole game's in parenthesis Talk about models and how you with somethin' When you really shootin' air balls, you ain't hittin' nothin' Nathan, through the strip, O.G.'s blazin' Street niggas slowly hatin' on Joey so amazin' And hood niggas knowin' what up Either holdin' you down or holdin' you up, throwin' it up Oh! [Hak Ditty] Aiiyo, f**k the dumb shit, when the guns spit One clip'll have your whole strip laid down Thirty-two shots to your block, I had that shit caged down And before you blink, I let off eight rounds This the ro-yal I ain't playin' I'm takin' this over, so y'all either layin' or dying And I won't hesitate to blaze the iron You cocksuckers is chillin' with a ragin' lion I see them dudes every day, when I'm racin' by 'em Or on the curb poppin' bottles while they hatin' and eyein' Uh, whether the slider or the highrider I keep my block rocker, glock under the blue dosser Far as Philly, it's no question to who's liver I'm hotter, Hak Ditty, block locker Fully prepared I hope y'all fully aware that y'all niggas got a problem this year (*Gunshots*) |
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| 19. |
| 4:06 |
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| 20. |
| 4:46 |
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