Dj Kayslay - The Streetsweeper Vol. 2 - The Pain From The Game (2004) by Dj Kayslay (보컬) on maniadb.com

(Featuring Ghostface/Scarface)

[Ghostface Killah (Scarface)]
Yeah, this Tony Starks
Scarface, yeah, we about to switch faces
(It's goin' down) Yeah Kay Slay
(Right here, right here tonight dawg)
(Face Mob in New York City)
(Huh, holla atcho goddamn boy!)
(Don't fuck wit me, don't get this shit crunk up in here, Kay!)
(Cuz you know I'ma goddamn fool wit this shit)

[Scarface]
I'm creatin' a masterpiece for niggaz
Doin' it Kay Slay, all day, ev'y day, steady up in the 12 gauge
I'm fuckin' your house up, you and your spouse up
You open your mouth up, guarantee you I douce ya
Have 'em writin' about ya, daily I'm in the papers for doubtin' a motherfucker
Stankin' the speculation, you want it, you got it, baby
I'm at you a lifetime, the nigga washin' your window shorten your lifeline
You're fuckin' wit white wine, I'm fuckin' wit nitrate
I'm emotionless when I get 'em, a nigga wit ice veins
Ain't impressed wit status or jewelry, I'm on some street shit
Don't believe in sit in front of a jewelry, that's weak shit
You talk it, you gotta live it, I live it, that's why I speak it
Exposin' these niggaz weakness', Kay I got 'em sleepin'
Reality, fuck a record, don't believe in disrespectin'
And niggaz will be to see you while your people got you rested'
I'm reckless

[Chorus]
[Ghostface Killah]
Mama used to take trips to face to face
Now it's face-to-face, Ghost & Face, Scar & Slay
We gon' walk the path that mama laid
We fail, we gon' see a skull on dollars grave

[Ghostface Killah]
I remember bustin' out the house from police duckin' the vans
Wit them taped-up broken revolvers stuck to my pants
That was '88, around the time of Slick Rick era
Day to day, rolled chains wit them thick knit sweaters
Who gives a fuck what the D.A. say, they wanna see me pay
Motherfucker this is G.F.K.!
I settle crimes wit metal 9s and I ain't gonna stop
'Til your brains all over the street like ?
Marshmellow dimes, brick be the size of cobblestones
Acknowledge the throne, it's Pretty Tone
I'm legendary and compared to my work on the strip, y'all secondary
I'm hittin' these fiends lovely, my shit be extra heavy
Like construction workers in Timbs, and plus they two box
Two glocks incase I gotta bump a few cops off
You know how we do in Staten Island, this is Gaten Island, nigga
Not a non-violence sticker

[Chorus]

[Scarface]
I gave you a chance to eat, but you chose to bite the hand that fed
You took your shit, nigga, lay in your bed
Who'd ever thought this nigga that we sat down at our table and fed
Would roll on the street and on wit the feds
I used to love this nigga
Now I roll around wit a mask and a strap and a grudge for that nigga
Fuckin' wit me, this adds the fuel to the fire
And I'm about to snap that wire!

[Ghostface Killah]
We want them new 20s and 100s, Ziplock money
Y'all gon' fund it, we gon' eat big like Big Pun did
And we goin' all out like Hussein's sons did
We stickin' niggaz like New York cops wit plungers
So take some advice, there's three bears
Cashmere down wit 12 gauges under the table
Slay got the shotty, ain't that your label
And them other two bears, yo, theys the one that paid you buddy!

[Chorus]

[gunshots]

If, some shots should happen to go off tonight
Don't worry about me, I'll be aight
Niggaz can waste ten while firin at me
Cause I'm God's child, there's angels around me

[Young Buck]
Life's a bitch and then you die, this couldn't be worse
I either don't eat this week, or snatch this purse
Clip hangin out the side of my Karl Kani
My eyes bloodshot red, I'm high but LET'S RIDE!
I ain't scared, if I die it was meant to be
He might send for you, before he send for me
Gun-butt you with the back of the baretta
The three-fifty-seven or, the black mac-11
We drive bulletproof Coupes nigga, go on take your shot
We used to shoot hoops nigga, now we shoot up blocks
Got them shells with them green tips just for y'all
You can run but they comin through them country walls
Bang dropped me off and show me where he live at
Think he tough? I'ma put six in his six-pack
When you hear that click-clack bitch better get back quick
One to the chest make niggaz do backflips

[Chorus]

[Lloyd Banks]
You don't think I know you niggaz want me to get murked
Get lowered in the dirt in all black with a button-downed shirt
Cold with two to the dome - the little niggaz
don't get to see Disneyland, they'll settle for a funeral home
You don't need hoes to know that the lead's hot
I'm prepared for anything tonight as long as it's not a headshot
The bigger the rim, the bigger the tire
Hollow tips'll make him feel like a nigga on fire
Everybody gotta go, it's the truth
So I figure while I'm waitin on my turn I'ma blow up the booth
I seen niggaz in wheelchairs, eye patches and crutches
Arm

(Featuring Sauce Money/Memphis Bleek/The Game)

[Intro: DJ KaySlay]
Yeah it's DJ KaySlay the Drama King
I'm in the house with my nigga Sauce Money
Memphis Bleek, holdin it down from the East coast
And from the West, I got my nigga Game
All you bitch-ass niggaz, y'all better fall the fuck back
Y'all know how this shit is about to go down
Yo homie, what's your name?

[Sauce Money]
My name is Money, that much is true
Listen up, this what I'm gon' do
I won't wait for you to get a lil' bigger
I hit you with the tec-9, lil' nigga
Look at him - red as a muh'fucker
Hah! Dead as a muh'fucker
Unassisted - aiyyo you shoulda
Been there Bleek, too late, you missed it
Cock back my biscuit
Like a fat chick and chocolate, I can't resist it
Didn't believe you, so for your big ol' ego
I got a big ol' Eagle
Gotta give the people
Not a fuckin chance to see you inside the sequel
Son I stay stuck in rude
So when they see me comin they like, "Damn, here come this fuckin dude!"

You know'm sayin Memph'?
Brooklyn what's up?
Got to take this shit back
Let's hit 'em with the hook son

[Chorus: Memphis Bleek]
Sawed-off shotgun, hand on the pump
Sippin that Arme', puffin on a blunt
All I know is my shit better bump
La la la la la-la la lahhhh

[Memphis Bleek]
What, yo yo.
You know Bleek always smokin that "La La La" - you right
Groupies they be actin too crazy, tell 'em they too hype
They want leave with a G like Eas'
Educated the bullshit, got a degree in these streets
But - I dare a nigga act all crazy
The tec'll tear his back all crazy
And you know I stay bent off the Arme'
Regardless if solo or I'm deep with my amry
I rep - straight from the jacked M-P
If I put the tec up I gotta tote the D.E
But wait! You know I'm ridin with Sauce
And we ridin this song from out the Robb Report
Dawg, I'm from the street, from the best I'm taught
I'll get your man tied and lost, fuck the cost
Got a couple of my killers who stand by
And I'm G-Force stat' nigga, never fly stand-by

Uhh, jeah, you know
Put this shit right back in the street, huh?
Brooklyn shit, Sauce
Let's bring the hook back, here we go yo

[Chorus]

[The Game]
Dip through N-Y, black Impala, matchin interior
Cali plates, I'm that serious
Niggaz think the kid a joke
'til that .38-revolver spin like hundred spokes
Homie I bring the drama (drama)
Sleep on The Game and get left in wooden pajamas
Nigga I ain't easy son
But I break up rock/Roc like DipSet and M-Easy son
I'm a B-L-double-O-D
Hardest nigga since S-N-double-O-P
And all this beef got blood in my eye
Aftermath motherfucker, you could love it or die
Keep Dre name out your mouth boy
Or get your +Bones Crushed+ like them Dirty South boys
I'm a "Menace," fuck Kane and O-Dog
Since I was ten I had 'caine and O's, dawg
I ain't lyin (I ain't lyin)
They gave Eazy AIDS, so why should I give a FUCK about dyin?
And the day Jay retire
I'ma park next to the throne, in a Maybach on gold wires, yeah

[Chorus]

[Outro: DJ KaySlay]
Yeah you bitch-ass motherfuckers
"Hands on the Pump"
Fuck around, find yo' ass slump
One hitta quitta, yes [gunshots]

[Eminem] + (Obie Trice)
KaySlay! (Yeah) Yo..
Drama King! (Yeah!)
Check it out, check it out - O. Trice!
(Shady Records nigga, it's goin down once again boy)
It's just a scratch man (Let's go Em)

[Eminem]
I +Murder+ this +Inc+ as soon as I touch the page
You ain't gon' have no other choice but to rush the stage
and charge the mic, and I hope you got the heart to fight
Cause you gon' have to, cause you ain't got the smarts to write
somethin that good, to try to come back at me with
What you gon' do, try to out-rap me with that happy shit?
You motherf**kers crack me up
Talkin bout you gonna smack me up, y'all won't even back me up
Throw up your paws, you pussies can't even scratch me hard
It's like f**kin Castor Claw tryna jack me off
You think I'm afraid? What you tryna throw some fear in me?
You think I'm dumb enough to roll with no security? {*gun clicks*}
I'm doin my best to try to show maturity
But don't sit there and stare at me like hoes and sneer at me
like it's supposed to be scarin me
Like I won't leap clean over this f**kin V.I.P. rope and throw this chair
at anyone close or near me tryna approach me physically
cause he don't spit lyrically
And he knows that my flow's so sick, this hoe's on my dick
and he's so sick of hearin me, my posters is starin at him
But I don't think he knows the severity
of what it could escalate to or that it could grow so seriously
if I go hysterically; cause I guarantee
there's no one in here that would resort like a childhood
any quicker than I would, or hit you with plywood
Especially when I'm sippin on this liquor and tonic
One swig of this bottle I'ma go upside your head so hard with it
the mark from it'll be so dark that it'll leave a scar so big
you'll be able to read a label from the motherf**kin
sticker that's on it; I'm sick of the nonsense
Shit is ridiculous and I refuse to let it get to this point
where I'ma let you sit on my conscience - I'm gone bitch, YEAH!

[Obie Trice] + (Eminem)
I'm gone bitch
Shady Records motherf**ker, we gone bitch
I said we gone bitch, so long bitch
Catch up if you can (whoo!) we movin on bitch (UHH!)

[Obie Trice]
Now who you know been to Kyoto, Tokyo
off of one debut, screamin, "I'm in Janai yo!"
Obie Trice, sho' you right
He done seen overseas, he's not a prototype (nah)
Nobody's protégé, Em only showed O. the way
F**k what the media say
If you listen to music then you should know that O. Trice fused it
in a matter where he speaks how the streets views it
Choose, to translate it through the art of music
and started usin it reachin the youth influenced by the truth in it (truth!)
And as a boy, a man, I ran from boys in vans
Do the knowledge, acknowledge and try to comprehend
Hand full of contraband
A product of my environment, narcotics and violence
Inspires the content, but my intent is
to retire these tired-ass writers in si-lence (yeah!)
Cause haters they hate us cause Shady became famous
and claimed the rap game when they thought he'd be nameless (hah!)
But racist accusations won't change us
Let the truth be told, you think O. will be over here
like, "Massa, show 'em you got soul" a€" no!
Anybody knows us know this not how we roll
So, I still push the bucket
If I ain't trust it I wouldn't f**k with it
But f**k it, I'm gone bitch! {*two gunshots*}

(Featuring Cam'ron/Chinky Brown Eyes)

Killa, Killa, Dipset man
Aye yo you know I've been all over the motherfucking world man
But ain't no place like Harlem man
Me break it down man

We tie dynamite to the rhino type, whine you might find yo sight
Sell the information for a dime a white, that c
I'm behind the diner, selling marijuana to a minor minor
Elder fella, lookin' for that shine, I'll shine ya

My mind designa, you a dime, I dine ya
Madonna momma, body bottle, your fine, I'm finer
Time to climb her, climb behind vagina
Then I hime and grind her, 'til her mom remind her

Diamonds blind her, visions gone, kiss her palm
Turn her on, lift her arm, notice that her wrists is wrong
Gotta get it right ma, we gon' get along
Said how don't trip, but yo the trick is wrong

First visit warn, day job tick a tron
Night time, missed the mom, bootleg Chris and Don
Brother Chris and Don, and they sister calm
They sell yay, you'll say yay, this s***'s the bomb

I'm a hit my man, tell 'em you my bigga pawn
The rest, so yes, you'll be blessed to hit the intercom
You know kisses mom, she gave him wisdom charm
And they father come from a long lista dons

And I get it cheaper, I cop bricks like sneakers
And if the cops come, I just hit amnesia
But I give you an earful, it's tearful
Told my mother I hustle, and she said be careful

Why I feel like I'm losin' weight?
Why I ain't got no money if I'm movin' weight?
My life's based upon, what I'mma do this year
Cop a boat, Hop a layer, now the army suits cute with my chocolate Airs

You ain't gotta stare, go cop a pair
Still the sweet in me, nothing they can do to me
I made sure my mother and girl is smothered in pearls
When a nigga under the world

Everybody like Cam got the recipe now
Not them three girls I got to be Destiny's Child
Specially equities, wreckin' we smile
In the fear tech the tech and use the tech that we wile

The tech with the septa, Receptive affiles
Hectic, heckle a koch, helicopters on the set of my sales
Nah, I ain't gon' be imbedded in jail
Talking to a cell mate in a bed in a jail, dog

I broke bread with the wheel, fled from some seals
And the house, I was the head of the hills, s***
You get a dumb ho, and get dumb happy
Go to the gun show, get gun happy

Stuck, killed, mugged, milt
Tone flint sticks, bo, Chub's milk
Poochi, baba, butta got the hardest shells
We the Midwest gun cartel, nigga

Ya, well just clap up ya brains, snatch up ya chains
See dog? Rap is my aim
But I'm a hustla, in my heart, trapped is the game
A test of my frame, tapped to my brain, affects that remains

It wasn't rap, it was crack that got the racks on the Range
Look dog, don't be askin' for dames, see
Playboy, I don't own that man
In any way homeboy, you a grown ass man, s***

And when I rap, it ain't no punchlines
I be on the highway dirty, crunch time
N o timeouts homeboy, just one time
If they find that stash box, just one time

S***, they'll put the dogs in the trunk
Side of the road, holding you up, cold as a f***
They want that button, lunge it and push it
Soon as they lunge it and push it, I'll run in the bushes

That's how I play mine, jump over the grapevine
Take my chances, one on one with the K9
Stealin' a clip, for anyone squealin' they lips
F*** y'all if y'all ain't feeling the dips

Why I feel like I'm losin' weight?
Why I ain't got no money if I'm movin' weight?
My life's based upon, what I'mma do this year
Cop a boat, Hop a layer, now the army suits cute with my chocolate Airs

You ain't gotta stare, go cop a pair
Still the sweet in me, nothing they can do to me
I made sure my mother and girl is smothered in pearls
When a nigga under the world
Killa

Okay Slay, you called in the right niggaz man
Yeah, JUMP OFF! (Yeah uhh, KaySlizzy)
Joey Crack, I see you out there in the B-X baby!
(Cook coke crack)

[Chorus: Joe]
Sweat is our cologne we grindin
House-landin homes we ballin
Duece to the game we payed 'em
Hits for y'all the same we bring 'em
Oh my, look what we got
Three boss players chillin in one spot
It's Joe and then we got Joe and then we got Joe
and then - it's whoa-ohhhh-ohhhh

[Fat Joe]
Yeah, uhh, yo, uhh
I gotta be "The Flyest" like my homie from Q-B
Niggaz know the Don be the sickest with jewelry
Niggaz seen the TS piece, and got they weight up
Do you see the size of this charm, Mr. Jacob
Nigga get your cake up, wanna get bling'd out
Whether sky-blue or chinchill, I'm minked out
Down in Miami, bitches say they love me
Niggaz gettin mad cause the bitches wanna fuck me
Always lend an ear when they man ain't listenin
Put somethin mean in they ear to glisten
Put 'em in the kitchen, let 'em get they bake on
Love it how your ass fallin out of the apron
We be makin love on the side of the road
in the back of the Maybach, the curtain is closed
You know how it go, we be laid back puffin the dro
Then it's back to the crib down on Coconut Grove
Youuuu know

[Chorus]

[Joe Budden]
Okay, hold up baby sweetie, lady darling
It's the, way you treat me; wait nah
It's the way I tap that last, she callin me pat that back
Ah dios mios when I smack that ass
It's that, pimped out demeanor
She pimped out with Senior, it's the good limp with the Nina
How I spit the 'caine game like I came from Yale
How the cops ca

[Intro: Lil' Mo]
KaySlay
Don't stop, don't stop! (huuuuh!)
Don't stop, don't stop! (huuh uuuh huh!)
Don't stop, don't stop! (yeah, yeah!)
Don't stop the music!
Don't stop, don't you stop (don't stop) it (no)
Don't you stop it (don't stop) the music!
Yeah, yeeah!

[Interlude: Lil' Flip]
Lil' Flipper, oh no

[Verse 1: Lil' Flip]
I'm stackin' my dough, it's 2:00 o'clock after the show
I ain't got a parkin' lot pimp to snatch me a hoe
I just speak my mind and do what I feel (feel)
Cause it's the way I been actin' before I got my deal
I got my pimp cup, hair braided, car bladed (yup!)
I got my lime green gators on so nigga watch where you (step!)
You know I'm reppin' H-Town everywhere I go
All eyes on me when I walk through the door (ooh wee!)
When I pull up on 20's everybody like, "whoa!"
That's when I go switch whips and come back on 24's
I gotta puff the haze before I touch the stage
I need 25 grand before I touch a page
Cause I spit hot shit everytime I flow
So go get my shit when it come in the sto' (store)
Cause after the club it's the after party in my room (ha ha!)
And you know what we doin' (yeeah!)

[Chorus: Lil' Mo]
Just because it's 2:00 o'clock (hey, hey!)
Don't stop the music, don't stop the music!
Just because it's 2:00 o'clock (oh, oh!)
Don't mean we have to stop
Don't stop the music, yeah, yeah!

[Verse 2: E-40]
I stay risked, I'm far from finger f**king and hickeys
I'm a grown man, different broad in every city
Pop more peas than a little bit, don't stop spit it, spit it
Off the block roll up, jetted wit it (jetted wit it)
Livin' on the West - it's hard to survive (uh)
Damn! I wish my partner Pac was alive (uh)
It'll be a whole different ball game let me explain (explain)
Niggaz he never f**ked wit stay screamin' his name (name)
You get your jaw wired up (uh) disrespectin' the game (respectin' the game)
Wishy-Washy niggaz (uh) went against the grain
I give the world all my slang, they wanna run wit it (run wit it)
Without sayin' 40 Water and Sick Wid It (Sick Wid It)
See I don't sound like (uh) everybody else, I'm full of my own (who?)
Who without sin? Man, they catch the first stone
So when you cats bust a left (uh), I'm makin' a right (right)
And just because it's 2:00 o'clock, that ain't the end of the night
Biatch! (ahh!), uh (uh)

[Chorus: Lil' Mo]

[Verse 3: Lil' Flip]
I ain't come to dance, I came to chill (I came to chill)
So it ain't no need to ice real, cause I got a ice grill (bling!)
My life real cause that's all I know (that's all I know)
Cali weed, yes indeed that's all I blow (that's all I blow)
If you don't know now ya know, we the big shots (yeeah!)
We don't f**k wit the cops (uh uh) we just bust wit our glocks (yeeah!)
And A.K.'s and Smith & K's slay in ya area (area)
So DJ's bump this in ya stereo (yeeah!)

[Verse 4: Lil' Mo]
Don't stop the music DJ!
Yes it's 2:00 o'clock in the mornin'
And I still want to party! (yeah!)
Don't stop the music DJ! (oh yeah!)

[Chorus: Lil' Mo] - (Repeat 2X)

Uhh.. yeah..
See, this is what these mixtapes is all about..
Knah'msayin KaySlay?
Talk to the people, with no interruptions and interference..

Put that mic down, admire the technique and tight tight sounds
of a Renagade , never been afraid, the time is right now
Before I take my bow and finally allow
my love affair with rap to fade, I'll sink into the page
Pleasur and the pain that came from rulin the game
And the half Dominican that gave me brains in the fast lane
A seventeen-year reign, simple and plain
When I ruled the rap game and all my peers sold cocaine
One-three-two Uptown, when Rich Porter told me
"See you can push a new car, it's different for a rap star"
And AZ was givin 50s to the homeless
They never bragged about it "L, we don't condone this"
On the back of the bike with Alpo
Doin a buck down one-two-five, hopin to stay alive
Favorite spot rooftop
Me and Big chuckle up when he was hittin up "Juicy" and whatnot
Damn, when Dapper Dan got shot up
Before they made drops when we had to cut the top up
Some cats neglected the fact that L was hot
Cause they warm and electin me hot when I stepped in the spot
Lyrically reppin the block on Farmers to rock
But my sex symbol status made me, corny to cop
The microphone strategist ripped the apparatus
Left competition embarrassed but I never held malice
Kinda saw street literature
Used to lose battles on purpose so these cats can dream more
I wanna see y'all shine without the use of a nine
You might see a nigga, I see a black Einstein
A diamond in the rough, he's remidin me as tough
Young girls takin X, she's blinded by the stuff
Oh my God, where did we go wrong?
Are you doin what you're doin cause I ruined you w

(Featuring Jaheim/Nore/Nature/Left Gunz)

[Intro: Jaheim]
Believe me when I tell ya
You don't want the drama

[Verse 1: N.O.R.E.]
A yo, for years I been buyin' my coke from the same cat
Dominican nigga who look black (that's right)
This summer I heard that (ha!)
I see me always swerve wit a (give it up!) where the bird at (yeah)
Apocalyptic, I pop biscuits (apocalypse), my bitch is topless
Not too excited I skeet skeet my own boxes
Drama King got the drama goods (bluh, bluh, bluh!)
Same place as the Domin' Osama Hood
Shoot up the thug and still puttin' the dame on it
The pimps had to give me a cup wit my name on it
I was "Gordito"
I'm still Gordo or "Gito"
Still know how to get the raw dough for cheap-o (cheap)
I'm lastin' all palm wit the connect of a "perico" (parakeet)
N.O.R.E. got no manners (no manners!)
I take a picture of ya "culo" wit the phone cameras
Go into ya own banners (ha!), they say my ballin' so hot like lone candles
And port or part of Santiago wit my own hammers (oh!)

[Chorus: Jaheim, Left Gunz]

[Left Gunz] Believe me when I say (oh!)
[Jaheim] You don't want no drama
[Left Gunz] It's ghetto die hood, thugged out all day (what?!)
[Jaheim] You don't want no problems (oh ohh!)
[Left Gunz] Shit is real killer, you could ask KaySlay
[Jaheim] Believe me when I tell ya!
[Left Gunz] We drama kings nigga we don't play
[Jaheim] You don't want the drama

[Verse 2: Nature]
Nature, alright, the year 2000 and 4 the War Report (port)
Niggaz make it out the hood, it's a small reward (ward)
We all fucked up and mauled cause that's all we saw (alright)
Tryin' to rob from the the rich and let the poor get poor (poor)
Or rob the poor cause niggaz be the hungriest (my niggaz)
I'm on the Internet - catch me on your Buddy List (I'll be in trouble, ha!)
Catch me where the money is, megas and millions (megas)
And the barrel got the kick of 11 guerillas (shout!)
Seen niggaz get hit and lose a whole lot of blood (what?)
When a nigga legit, a nigga knowin' how to stunt (stunt)
Uptown, Downtown, go wherever he at (wherever he at)
Nigga make it implication, shit better be fat (shit better)
Nigga small talk, it's all talk - let it be that (let it be that)
I get pussy from my friends (pussy!) give my enemies clap (ha ha!)
You don't want me on ya block (you don't want me) niggaz better be strapped
So relax nigga

[Chorus: Jaheim, Left Gunz]

[Verse 3: Left Gunz]
My name ring from the Clippers to the Nets (yeah)
You could look and see I'm Dirty Jerz down to the zippers on my sweats (oh)
Far from the type of cat that pay a bitch's rent
I got a +Fox+ like +Vivica+ and never gave her +50 Cent+ (ha ha!)
And I bet you ain't ready for war yet (uh)
My niggaz got stripes, who walk around like the Barbershop Quartet? (ooh!)
It's no way to harm this nigga
I don't need no bitch to pump eye until my arms get bigger
Still a problem in this the rap game, problem in the street
Yo Slay, they havin' problems, we can solve em wit the heat
I show em what the drama is
That's when ya whole shit splattered all across the front porch in momma crib
And wit a couple hot slugs get behind ya ribs (ooh!)
You really mean it when ya screamin' , "I'm just tryin' to live!"
The game is over now
Y'all niggaz slept long enough, time to come up out that coma now, uh

[Chorus: Jaheim, Left Gunz]

[Verse 4: Jaheim]
Yo, straight off the bat
You don't want the drama nigga Left Gunz gon' clap
When I'm comin' try to run and catch one in ya back
Ooh! You don't really want the problems
Got a whole lot of family out in Spanish Harlem
Pop goes the weasel, out comes the Mack
And nothin' to gain but pimpin' the game

Aiyyo it's DJ KaySlay the Drama King
And for those of y'all that don't know
I'm workin with a new artist, he goes by the name of Papoose
And for those of y'all that didn't finish school
Check this out, it's all good
I'ma run y'all through this little Thug-acation right now
And what we gon' do, is we gon' scream out the letters in the alphabet
And every letter you hear screamed out, from A to Z
My man Papoose gon' break it down for you
So what you do, is get your pens, your pads, and take notes
Yo Papoose, let's go!

[Papoose]
(A!) Alert, assassins at large allegedly
Automatic artillery, angrily aimed and aggressively
Accurate AK's angled all ways
Adversary afraid as active ammunition abraise
Accumulated an alias after arrested
Accompanied armed accessory, as an adolescent
(B!) Bridge Benz brolic burner bringin brothers
Betrayer's bodies briefly be body banged bleedin brothers
Blades blastin brave bashin Brooklyn bullet busters
Big biscuits barrels blazin beheadin bitch boasts and bluffers
Borough barricaders beat bringers brutally blast
Bringin blood baths (C!) cover cowards corners collectin cash
Confirmed convicts committin crimes clappin cats
Creepin cashiers causin characters comas, cappin crabs
Chaos causin, clearly commandin Cee-Lo
Cocaine capsule caps colored, capturin customer's C-Notes
Confiscatin combinatin, countin cream capulatin
Cockin calibur chromes creatin casualties compensatin
(D!) Dominatin devoted dealer devastatin
Determination demonstratin, devine dedication
Debatin drug deals, demandin dough distributed
Definitely dividin double-digit dollar dividends
Drama declarin demolishin domain dozer
Directi

(Featuring Lil Jon/David Banner/Bun B/Baby D)

[Intro: Lil' Jon, DJ KaySlay]

[Lil' Jon]
Hey (hey!), what?! (what?!)
It's the motherfucking Drama King, KaySlay (yeah!)
Me, it's ya boy Lil' Jon, hey (hey!)
Let's go (ha!), what?! (what?!) what?!
Let's go (ha!), yeah, hey! (hey!)
Let's go (ha!)

[DJ KaySlay (Lil' Jon)]
A yo it's DJ KaySlay the Drama (drama!) King
Ain't nothin' but real (yeah) niggaz up on this track (what?) right here
A yo Brian, we gots to get up in the mix
Like we back on the block in '86

[Chorus: Lil' Jon]
If my hood talkin' fake shit, what you gon' catch?! (Drama!! Drama!!)
What?! What?! (Drama!! Drama!!)
In my face thinkin' "oh he hard!" he'll catch (Drama!! Drama!!)
Yeah! (Drama!! Drama!!)
Tryin' to say somethin' freak bitch, what he gon' get?! (Drama!!, Drama!!)
Hey! Hey! (Drama!! Drama!!)
You better back up bitch before you get slapped quick! (Drama!! Drama!!)
About that nigga named! (Drama!! Drama!!)

[Verse 1: Bun B]
Niggaz sayin' what they gon' do when they see that Bun B
You tellin' everybody out there all that dumb shit but me
Alright, you niggaz want it, I got it FUCK IT, it's his space (space)
Soon as I get the work from +Kay+, niggaz is gettin' +Slay+ed (slayed)
The 50 Caliber handgun, the Mack (Mack), the Glove (Glove)
Catch a nigga off the street, show his bitch-ass some love (bitch-ass some love)
Hoe, you ain't gettin' no greater, you's a hater
Give him 30 in his grill, feed his ass to the gators
Fuck him now, fuck him later, niggaz know cause niggaz seen it (seen it)
I'm gettin' my money now or get yo' bitch-ass between it (bitch-ass between it)
Rawer than Sushi and still swimmin' in the sea
I don't know how shit was but I know how shit is finna be (what?)
Killin' off the enemy, short stoppin' ya cuts (yeeah)
Cuttin' off ya supply cause now your connect workin' for us (okay)
Grab the thang and I'm a bust, I ain't scared to do the time
So if you wanna fuck wit us, best of have it on ya mind, nigga

[Chorus: Lil' Jon]

[Verse 2: David Banner]
KaySleezy, man it's easy, look, for me to go and bust
On pussy-ass niggaz who can't shut the fuck up
The Drama-Slap-Ya-Momma King and Mr. Mississippi
If it's problems come and get me man, I'll dump 150
Out the (A) K, blowin' my way, make his momma say, "oh my!"
Niggaz die, I roll around high
All the dro clicked out bustin' the .44
If ya really buck girl, then you slap that hoe
Knock her out
Bitch look, ya know what I'm about
Born fair
If ya real then put it in the air
Big guns, big funds and real big wheels
Go on hit him in his chest and watch his body windmill
Aw FUCK, David Banner is comin' out the cut
All I got in this world is my word and my nut - fuck nigga

[Lil' Jon talking] + (David Banner)
Yo we gotta let these (yeah) niggaz know what they gettin'
When they fucking startin' wit that bullshit

[Chorus: Lil' Jon]

[Verse 3: Baby D]
Motherfucker want it, get done up
Packin' heat out the summer
BLAOW! BLAOW! in the crowd
Now watch the crowd go ball
And this here (yeeah) about the clip and (hoe) they dug it (hoe)
And givin' blood up (come on)
I'm too fast for 'em
Mr. Potato (oh) Head (ooh), nigga then slid and mash on
Clash on 'em (yeeah), harass 'em (yeeah)
Flash 'em (yeeah) wit a full tank of gas
Then put this (oh) in ya ass
Wit acid (yeeah), without a reason (hoe) ain't leakin'
But (come on) how my tolerance is limited
Got 'em smokin' like chimney, leave ya body dumpin' like Jimmeny
You the enemy that envy me (hoe) it's a sin to be (come on)
Friends wit these niggaz who ain't kin to me
Family, countin' (ooh) the problems, when we jump off probably
Hard and he soft (hey), I was taught (hoe)
Uh, (come on) when you done wit 'em (what?), they better not be able to walk
Don't talk (yeeah) and let your answers speak for ya (for ya)
The block ain't hot until it boil
I love the block (yeeah) like hot pot did Donald Boyle (ooh)
I make bread on the soil

[Chorus: Lil' Jon]

Uhh, okay, y'all know what this is
Jim Capo nigga, we back on this motherfucker
Drama King, drama game, bird caine
DipSet, Diplomat - y'all know what it is
Exclusive nigga, for the streets
Harlem, stand up, Eastside representers
You know what it is, check it

Passed my hood throwin weed out the window
Half my hood they be out the window
Tell KaySlay throw the key out the window
I parked in front so I can see out the window
Get inside of the ride, 20 inches piped in the side
So I cypher some eyes, hell yeah like bikers we ride
Better yet like pilots we fly
Trust me you be flyin all high
like a bunch of birds and we dump the birds
And we bump the birds but "mums" the word
Word, word - man bird gang
I thought you heard mayne
But hold on holmes, I be rollin stones
Rocked up like a rollin stone
Blocked up and I hold the chrome
Pop up I will blow up homes, DipSet, he know it's on
Yeah, it ain't even fair
I'll squeeze a flare, I'll leave him there
Just bleedin there, no breathin air
Just leave him there 'til police get there
Whoo! That's my kind of work
Fucked up buletproof liner shirt
Then we grind the work, all kind of work
We watch po-po, they tryin alerts
Fuck that dough, they dyin of thirst
Huh, so we cop it and fry it
Chop and divide it, toppers supply it
Yeah - hit the block and he try it
Yeah - watch the cops when they eye us
Yeah - you know our block starts riots

[Chorus 2X: Jim Jones, Juelz Santana]
If it's drama we can start it
Start the drama, get retarded
Grab the llama, load the cartridge
Turn yo' ass into a target

If it's drama we gon' start it
If it's problems we gon' solv

Yeah, we straight from the census bureau
Haha, Runyan Ave
We lookin for yo' momma
D-12 - where yo' momma at?
Miko where yo' momma at?
Young Zee, hey Dame - where yo' momma at?
I wanna fuck that bitch, her stankin ass
Hey Em where yo' momma at? (Ohhhh-ohhhhh)
Yo..

[Kon Artis]
You know me, Denaun the same ol' nigga
I spray paint your car up like Rain-O nigga
See me and you are sorta like the same I guess
We both rock mics but yours is into our chest
You can't do nuttin to me, Runyan Ave's unruly
And truly this ain't a movie, you get slapped with the tooly
So pass the slimmy and the Hennessy, I got the energy
to steal every car in this vicinity, you feelin me?
Take it back to when Das EFX was sayin niggity-wiggity-wild
Piggity-pow, nigga be out
You don't really want war, I'm chillin at your door
This uzi will have you bloody windmill-ing on the floor
I can't be a punk, my daddy wasn't none
I lose a fight after school and I came home and got one
You reap what you sew, that shit you oughta know
I keep it on the flo' under the seat I ain't a hoe!

[Chorus: Kuniva] (Kon Artis)
You know it's been a while but we feelin it now
(The rough sound muh'fucker, niggaz killin it now)
Goddamn! You don't want no problems B
(Get your name in the obituary column sheet)
It's that same ol' shit, niggaz back again
(Yo yo, you fallin off, goin back to smokin crack again)
Hit the weed (guzzle your Corona) pass the Gin
(Better duck cause they back bustin gats again)

[Swifty]
A basket case indeed; stronger than a can of mace
Slap you in the face while you patty-cakin witcha seed
I'll be makin all these nig

(Featuring Jae Millz/Angelous/Cashmere/Trife/Manio/True Life/The Bad Seed)

[Chorus x2: Sample]
Get this thing through your head
And they will never be no more
Tell me, tell me, about it, damn it

[Jae Millz]
Aiyo, I move with a click that's wreckless
And they ain't got no problem spraying your ass, like disinfectant
So if I feel disrespected, I promise you family
Your body gon' be hollow tip infested
I come from the slums of the 212
H-Dub, Lennox Ave, fuck you gon' do?
We got wild clips duke, with things that'll hit you
And leave a hole so big your moms could put a whole wrist through
Homes, you don't wanna push me there
To the point, I gotta leave you in a bush somewhere
Nah, you don't wanna push me there
It ain't worth it, dog, homeboy you better - better, huh
Before I aim in you -- huh, it's real
You heard Millz real, and better believe it stupid cuz --
Nah, come on, Slay you know who to holla at
I'm heavy ever where from Harlem to the bottom where the rude boys and shottas sat
Hell is what I'm giving em, fuck hurtin', I'm killing em
Got legends ready to pick back up they pen and spit again

[Angelous]
I nurture the track, the perfect of rap
Its nonsense how the don, get curved it, to clap
You miss me, simply, I asserted the track
Kay classic, the same game, dog, with packs
Mobsters with the arms up, feel the game wit me
Bomb up, as I conduct, this is Ang' furry, huh
I made berry, the whole league in Jones Beach
And bake berry, the H jerry's is so sweet
So brief, aim's gone, in the building
O.G.'s ain't honor the brilliant, except for the minds
That push the breathe, for the best to colide
Better yet, I put the X in define
Never fret, when it's beef, I put the pep' in the nine
From your brain to my watch, you be ahead of my time
Aim/shift, your brain wrist, the gate aimed to lift
The game will keep going because Angelous exists, bitch

[Chorus]

[Cashmere]
What up, it's Cashmere, ya, your new rap fellow
We in hoods like the jam in '86, hello
You know what that means? Ya'll the rap queen
Bunch of bitch niggaz, bow to your new king
And after this there won't be no more
You dudes, is full of hype, that's what TV's for
So, get it through your head, or the nine'll leave, eight holes in your head
Think I'm playing, nigga? I have my peeps pop out my the van
And you lookin like, a soldier out of Pakistan
Ask them dudes on this track, they'll tell you Cash the man
Whatever he doing, trust me, I know I can
I'm ahead of him, eight miles and running
I'm done busting shots, the next hit, the bomb drops
You cocksuckers is about to die, and -- let's go, come on

[Chorus]

[Trife Da God]
Either you get it through the head, or you get it through the leg
Either way, you graze these bullets, is gonna leave you dead
And I ain't freezin' up, when it's time to pull it, you heard what I said
It's Theodore nigga, we all about the bread, niggaz
And it's time for a reality check, yet I'm celeb in the hood
And I ain't even seen a salary yet
Ya'll niggaz flee when my calvary's step
Staten Island we rep, stylin' to death, pumpin' gallons to wet
And like Nick, yeah, I stay with the Cannon
Lay in fours, get, kid you stuck wherever you standing
Lay you on the strip, play you for a bitch, you punk
Pussy, you dealin' with crumbs, so stop actin' like you one tough cookie
I'm not the greatest, I'm the latest, ya'll faggots is imitators
Air you out like venilators, and bang you like skinned potatoes
Cuz most of ya'll faggots is sounding like little Jada's

[Maino]
Yo, I speak for the Stuy, Brooklyn is mine, get it through your head
'Fore I round these bullets up and send them through your head
Last nigga tried to stunt, left his hat full of lead
Left the picture that your see, for the inside of F.E.D.S.
I want you to think, that my gun don't burst
My tech'll make niggaz back up like cars in reverse
Definition of a thug, man, put in your work
And nigga act up, you put his work in the earth
Yeah, I'm hotter than you ever was, real? You never was
Hustle hard, nigga, we get you, whatever drugs
Bet you none of ya'll seen, machine guns rattle
So I let off, and let you feel the heat off the barrel
My dogs rocked up, and got you when you hit the gravel
Been a hard hitter, before the Mets signed Darryl
I'm your reaper, when I blast the street sweeper
You bitch niggaz'll crack up like cheap sneakers

[Chorus]

[True Life]
Yo, ya'll niggaz keep talking greasy, like I won't melt ya'll
See me in the streets, got more Smilez than Southstar
Pull your socks up, homey, you know what I'm about, yo
I was pushing rocks, you pushed the Roc, forgot yo's
Lot of niggaz thuggin', but not like me
Put the fifth to your nose, for being nosey
Fuck a throwback jersey, you trying to be Fabolous
End your career, have you resurface like Canibus
Nigga's shouldn't have let me loose
I'm well when I'm sober, imagine off Cran' and Grey Goose
I'm liable to clap the tech
Make you take that chain off, but I don't want a rash on my necklace
Shit, we ain't the same calibur, listen, your don
I treat ho's how I wanna, even got a bad blonde
Got bad feet, so I hit her with her shoes on
Get this through your head, 'fore I flip over, your Yukon

[Bad Seed]
Streetsweeper, cock back, run up, where ya block at
Gettin' money, stop that, where the fuck ya'll rocks at
Bandana on my face, thirty nine on my waist
Shoot you if you try to run, nigga you ain't gettin' chased
You was poppin' hella shit, all that shit irrelevant
Sittin' on cake, and you waiting on the settlement
I'm a grown man, never run, never ran
And I don't play with kids, this ain't Never Never Land
Brooklyn, fuck that, crackers, where my nuts at?
You get bucked at, crew you 'fore I Dutch hat
I smoke 'Cocoa Brova', stay with a 'Smif-N-Wessun'
Skip J in the Garden, and hit Slay session
Bad Seed from the top of the hill
It's still real though, Tarantino flow, keep it low, I Kill Bill

(Featuring Prodigy/Raekwon/AZ)

[Intro: Raekwon & Prodigy]

[Rae] You know how it go. You know how it go
[Pro] Uh-huh, uh-huh
[Rae] There's many out there
Many duplicate faggots
[Pro] Check this shit, son
[Rae] No question. You know how it go, son
Ice Water, Ice Water

[Verse 1: Prodigy]
Infinite, check it out
In-stoppable, in-touchable, you couldn't flex on me
If you was right next to me
And you wanted to (c'mon)
I take you fuckin' bullies - let's do this
P is deadly, he's just like his music
Come through like the Taliban unit
Catch me by myself, I'm only sayin' bullshit
I don't switch up, I won't change
You gonn' have to catch my body to sell my brain
An' that's simply the truth
Niggaz wanna flip on me, we makin' the news
And hopefully, I'll be makin' it home
But if not, it really makes me no dickens, it's whatever, yo
Fear's not an option, Min(?)'s childish
Squeeze your gun, just make sure I'm finished
My style is Porsches and XL trucks
But my presence alone'll make the good girls fuck

I see they wanna rhyme just like P
They wanna copy off me, bite my jury
Used to scream on they song
Now they rhyme calm
Takin' pieces of my verse like I gave
Y'all, they wanna be, just like the Mobb
They wanna observe us, bite our style of dress
Bite our style of rap. I see all of that [echoes]

[Verse 2: Raekwon]
Aiyyo, aiyyo
Shoebox with nothin' but bread
The lead fly out the magnet
Dragged it by his brain and his leg
Where I'm from, niggaz is dead
But only bury light niggaz, some that take get outta dead
I live like a champ, gun king, thumb ring
The joint that Kobe gave his girl, that's my son, bling
Sooner or later it's war
How many good niggaz die? That's the meaning of New York
A powerful armour, ration it, all this is tailor made stuff
That's me fuckin' with crackers
Chef got a iller mood, real deal dude
A hundred bar marksman, shoot up the booth and move
What you wann' do, lose?
I bet all my niggaz right now be stealin' ya food
We come from where the babies get blessed, yes
This my proposal : come and buy haircut's fresh

I see they wanna rhyme just like Rae
They wanna cop me all day, watch me in the Mae
Flyin' on my way to the bank
Yellin' "Goodness gracious, the hood won't even say thanks"
But I got a trick for niggaz
'Cause when these heads get up, it's no friends, just business
Problem? Meet me in the yard
The Ice Water clique with a hundred bars, let's get involved

[Verse 3: AZ]
Two-three, I'm back out with big Kay Slay
New place here, muh'fuckers screw up his face
You wanna hate? I'm alive, nigga, grew to embrace
All the tribes and tribulations, only few do escape
Been through the chase, the incriminatin', the case
No feel, the cold steel still the weight in my waist
One of the great, eighty-eight, young with cake
Duffel bag full of hustle, cash, gun in the safe
Some would relate, others wanted rap replaced
The nigga's style is how they know me now, but nothin' is play
Involved in violence heavily, indirect
In car low, with it tinted up, in our reps
Been large before niggaz had to guard they chest
Before them boys in L.A. put The God to rest
B.I.G.! Get money, or starve to death (Yep)
Got killers among me, dodgin' the rest
Got my (?) in the hood, disregardin' the press
No disrespect, I'm a brother so pardon my (?)
Blood blower, rep for my boy to follower
She the thrower, the whole jail house roust, they all know her
More soldiers, it's a war in the game
Some niggaz crossed over, nothin' really more to explain
And niggaz can't be like me, I'm A.Z
I move inconspicously, I'm on point
And beefin' ain't a part of my style
I'm a boss, player, mastered the art of morale
Man of respect, this war when I handle the check
But behind jail walls I'm like Hannibal Lec'
Motherfuckers

{*"Do it again.."*}
{*"Do it again.."*}
(Intro: Sunny)
Whattup baby, it's ya girl Sunny
Hot 97, a.k.a. the Drama Queen, hahaha
Hangin out with the Drama King himself
KaySlay, "Streetsweeper Volume 2"
Lil' somethin for the ladies right now
Noooo drama involved, real sexy
"Celebrity Love" - let's go
(Chorus: Chinky Brown Eyes)
Let's do it in the mornin
Let's do it all through the night
I wanna feel your sweet face
I wanna feel it next to miiiiine
I love it when you, hold me
My body can't refuuuuse
It's the way you make me feel when I'm in love
Let's do it again
(Lala)
Don't wanna ride in your Six tonight
I don't want you to trick tonight
You ain't gotta pop Cris' tonight
I don't care what's on your wrist tonight
I just want you to get me right, hit me right
I always take care of my baby boy
Lay you back on that Laz-E-Boy
You get me wet like the Navy boy, goin crazy boy?
Twist Lala, come through, blaze me boy?
Feel my foreplay all day
Let's role play, I'll be the French maid
Or the stewardess, jeans fit like {?}
Ride and won't move a inch 'til you can't move and shit
Homie, I miss the way that you kiss and hold me
How you put it on me, never leave me lonely
Yeah I want it tonight, I want it all night
I want it from him, I wanna do it again
(Chorus)
(Tiffany)
You know I'm starin in the mirror just thinkin 'bout you
About the, things you say and things that you do
Like when we, on the phone or we, home alone
and ya, touch that spot that always, makes me moan
You got that energy baby Tiffany can't refuse
And I don't know how the hell I can live without ya
You make me happy when you leave little, notes around
And I know you sincere by the way that you sound
Like when I call ya in the mornin and you wake up and ya yawnin
but your baby's on the line, and it sounds like she's been cryin (cryin)
Then you arrive with your arms open wide
Uhh, that's how I know, everything's aight
And I love it when you kissin me, holdin and caressin me
Slowly undressin me and slidin ever so gently
Damn, I'm in love, and I'm head, over heels
for a man, that's a man, and knows how, I should feel - f'real
(Chorus)
(Steph Lova)
I'ma be honest y'all, check it
I never been in love before baby this is all new to me
It's - more than the sex, it's the little things you do for me
Like - he makes me laugh when I really wanna cry
And - he even helped a bitch stop gettin high
And - gave me the down payment on my first whip
Then I crashed it a week later; he ain't even trip
I said he like the way I lick my lips, and now he's sprung
And them other chicks is just too, dum-ditty dumb dumb
See, he's my number one fan, and I'm his co-D
We Mickey and Mallory, Beyonce and Jay-Z
+Crazy in Love+ in the back of the club
With the, Drama King and a couple of thugs
Here's a, toast to us; they wanna get, close to us
"ME AND MY BOYFRIEND!" Dangerous
From the "windows to the walls," my +Milkshake+ is +Magic+
We gon' +Do it Again+, cause baby gotta have it
(Chorus)