ft. Beanie Sigel, Jay-Z
[Freeway]
Man if I get rocked, this shit for my kids nigga
It`s that real shit...
[female singer, repeated throughout the verses]
Even though what we do is wrong...
We still hustle `til the sun come up
Crack a 40 when the sun go down
It`s a cold winter
Y`all niggaz better bundle up
And I bet it be a hotter summer, grab a onion
Yes the ROC gets down, you hot now, listen up
Don`t you know cops` whole purpose is to lock us down?
And throw away the key
But without this drug shit your kids ain`t got no way to eat, huh?
We still try to keep Mom...smilin`...
Cuz when the teeth stop showin` and the stomach start growlin`
Then the heat start flowin`
If you from the hood I know you feel me ([Jay-Z:] Keep goin`...)
If a sneak start leanin` and the heat stop workin`
Then my heat start workin` I`m-a rob me a person
Catch a nigga sleepin` while he out in the open...and I`m-a get
him ([Jay-Z:] Keep flowin`...)
We gotta raise our kids while we livin`
Make a million off-a record bail my niggaz outta prison
Fuck a Bentley or a Lexus just my boys in the squadder
Nigga talk reckless then I hit `em with the Smif `n...
But I`m never snitchin` I`m a rider
If my kids hungry snatch the dishes out ya kitchen
I`ll be wylin` til they pick me outta line-up...
We keep the nines tucked, chopped dimes up, rap about it
Wyle out, fuck niggaz up, laugh about it
I`m not tryin` to visit the morgue but Freeway move out `til
I sit with the Lord
`Til I...get my shit together, clean up my sins
Freeway got it in like 10 in the mornin`
And I can get it to ya like 10 while you yawnin` mang...
Still deliver the order mang!
And I ain`t talkin` bout chicken and gravy mang!
I`m talkin` bout bricks `o ye-yo, halves and quarters
4 and a halves of hash you do the math
Swing past us scoop up your daughter
She wanna roll wit` a thug that rap, you do the math
He won`t blast `til my stacks in order mang!
[Jay-Z]
...MANG! Lemme get `em Free
Hove never slackin` mang, zippin` in the black Range
Faster than the red ghost, gettin` ghost wit` Pac-Mang
One-time know a got a knack to get that change
Leader of the black gang, R-O-C mang
Bang like T-Mac, ski mask air it out
Gotta kill witnesses `cause Free`s beard`s stickin` out
Y`all don`t want no witness shit, we squeeze hammers mang
Bullets breeze by you, like Lousiana mang...
But I gotta feed Tianna mang...
So I move keys you can call me the Piano Man
Rain...sleet, hail...snow man
Slang dough, E, hydro man...
[Beanie Sigel]
...no, B. Sige in the third lane
Gramps still prayin` workin on my nerves man...
Like, "Son you gotta get your soul clean...
Before they blow them horns like Coltrane..."
But still I cry tears of a hustler
Wipe tears from my mother, pull out beers for her brothers...
That`s above us, make beds for the babies
Tuck kids under covers, buy cribs for their mothers
Shit I`ll probably be wylin` with their fathers
Tell Ms. Robert, tell Enijah that I`m ridin` for her father
That`s like my brother, like same mother different father
Any problems dog know I got `em
And still we grind from the bottom
Just to make it to the bottom sold crack in the alleyways
Still gave back Marcy a Dollar Day
Real gangstas make hood holidays
They ain`t thank us but we still paid homage mang
Soul Food Sunday lookin` like Big Momma`s mang
Tell the gang I never break my promise mang...mang...unnh!
