| Disc 1 | ||||||
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| 1. |
| 1:10 | 
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Dear America,
I'm only what you made me, young, black, and fuckin' crazy Please save me I'm dyin' inside, can't you see it in my eyes? I'm hopeless, and fearless on the outside, gun on my side Shit, Maby if yall niggas build schools instead of prison, maybe I'll stop livin' the way I'm livin', probably not. I'm so used to servin' rocks and burnin' blocks, I ain't never gonna stop. Been doin' this shit all my life, I'm a lost cause, And what about the rest? Don't them suckers deserve a chance? Somethin' better then shoot-outs, liquor stores and food stamps? Maybe if y'all teach them niggas a craft an' a trade, they wouldn't have to play that corner, know what i mean? Servin' that yay America, you got a fuckin' problem, an I ain't never goin' away There's about 20 million other mutha fuckers just like me, preperattions is through, y'all gonna pay |
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| 2. |
| 4:49 |
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Once upon a time, not long ago
When gangstas rocked waves sold dope and sniffed lo' There was a young G by the name of Shyne Poe Puttin' it down, cuttin' it up and cookin' it now It's been a lotta dick ridin' for lack of a betta words Speculations on the guns I hold underneath my furs Similarities in my voice nigga check the words I'm in for winter to doe's that pinch merds from the cur Dodgin' and dippin' the narcs It's the young Frank Matthews the rap version Touch my trap on my smack the gats burstin' That's certain leave ya face and ya chest and ya back jerkin' Uh--y'all got me fucked up like My desert eagle and my sick doom bust right Like my guns is racin',muthafucka don't you know I Make ya heart stop and ya body start shakin' Now you know the bottom line of this rhyme crime 25 to life plus 9 *Whatcha gon' do when shit hit the fed Take it like a man or snitch like a bitch Whatcha gon' do when shit hit the fan Pray to God, go hard or lay up in the morgue x2 Evil grin,dead eyes,walkin wit a bock, monster Best way to describe my posture In this world of sin I'm as wicked as they come Moonlightin' as a rapper get this ticket and I'm done Ain't enough money here I ratha be in the tropics Wit Corsicans where narcotics is the only topic Persian rocks and things the man that made of snow Tiger par And every other form of raw Since a team been handlin, nigga been scramblin' Bettin' on money in Vegas gamblin' Desert in the abdomen, pissy drunk stylin',staggerin' More than you can imaginin Uh--thoughts randomin, runnin through my mind Like who's the best MC's - Biggie, Jay-Z, and Shyne Demented as a young'n, apple 2nd comin' Evil thoughts runnin' through my cerebellum Shyne Poe what the fuck you gon' tell 'em? All you niggas that wanna be fly my gun shots'll propell 'em Leavin' somewhere smellin', repellin' Closed caskets for you fuckin' bastards c'mon *Repeat Only the strong survive, weak niggas bleed And get found, wit they fuckin' face down Numb from the waist down I din been to hell and back Twice and still in crack Stare death in the eyes and never blink Headshots rip through my mink Went to war wit the realist killas Killed friends over jealousy and envy My heart's empty Behind the wheel of my Bentley Coke-d up feelin invincible Bout to take over the world I can't be stopped Not the feds or the fuckin' cops Not even 17 shots Can put a end to this terror I'ma live forever, cause gangstas don't break We just get plastic surgery and relocate To anotha state or island, smilin, money pilin, wildin Yo Puff over done them fuckin violins Uh this shit is bigger than me though ask Oliver North Kill you then use your corpse,to transport horse Leave ya brains hangin' from ya fuckin' car window Any nigga snitch and givin' info Since my motha stomach coke and liquor Was the mixture Betta be prepared when we hit ya *Repeat |
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| 3. |
| 4:50 |
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[Verse 1]
I done fucked *The Baddest Bitches* ask Trina Give her coke to stuff between her, said she loved my demeanor Felonies and misdemeanors, I'm villified I just, rap on the side, black mafia ties Prolific words, I speak for the unheard Niggas who love guns, money, girls, and furs Sittin up in the mans', runnin shit On the phone moving bricks, orderin hits Perfected the game, diamond infested the chain Niggas think I change I just wanna watch 'em change Livin the American dream Drugs, violence, sex, and loaded magazines That's all I could talk about in these sixteen Cuz that's all I live, ask Tibs It is what is, either graveyards or consecutive life bids, shit *Niggas wanna bang, we could bang Niggas wanna slang, we could slang x4 [Verse 2] Niggas wanna bang we could bang out Til the clip's done, or your vital arteries hang out Ham a cot, Bad Boy, the black Camelot Raise the price and connect the dots Through life's journies, all I need is a couple of mack mils A couple of mils and good attorneys Skatin on big blades, goin out in a blaze in my last days I'll probably die with a bad drug trade or an overdose Without tellin my moms, sorry it was close My wife and my bitch fightin over my notes All my niggas skied north makin a toast Til hell, just gimme bad bitches in Channel Connects wit, Chinese cartels and that new SL And the judge that's gon' set my bail *Repeat [Verse 3] I'm on top of this shit, look at the wrists Too much rocks in this shit, aint that a bitch Make hits, til my last breath With that nigga, the P U double F So lay back in the cut motherfucker 'fore you get shot I kill niggas on the spot like a cop I did it all four seasons suites to a cot Give bitches nothing but breathmints and this cock Call me what, there's a way to eat And all we got is sports, entertainment or the streets I'm in deep, think of Citibank when I sleep Ching, ching like I was from Shaolin Brooklyn nigga what you say, keep stylin My air force ones you couldn't walk a mile in I love politics, narcotics, and violins Bad Boy forever, we move in silence *Repeat *Repeat |
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| 4. |
| 3:48 |
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Shyne
Now tell me who want to fuck with us? Ashes to ashes, dust to dust I bang - and let your fuckin brains hang, snitches Fuck Marla Maple bitches with riches who carry 22's, up in they hosiery A black teller when my father bust and unloaded me Think he just finished sniffin a ki, and dippin the D's Don't hate me, hate Nicky Barnes for hittin my moms Letting the condom pop, nigga I was born in the drop Coke boil in the pot, shake the Feds and bust shots at them street cops Fuck yo' point is? My point is double fours at your fuckin jaws Pointed, hollow point shit Four-point-six, need I say more? Or do you get the point bitch? C'mon *What type of nigga slang and bang in the streets? (Bad Boyz) What type of nigga stay in the Trump for weeks? (Bad Boyz) What type of nigga fly Bentley Coupes? (Bad Boyz) Aim for the sky, cop the shit then shoot .. Shyne Minks draggin on the floor - bangin on your whore Suckin the croissant just examine it for flaws Pour the Cristal on the way to trial, RICO law got a nigga head hurtin squirtin til they pull the curtain Let the money drip dry, hundred dollar bills wipe the tears from my eyes, no love Fuck y'all niggaz, hope you die a slow death as I coke-test and C. DeLores Tucker protest Can't fuck with you weak rap niggaz, witcha gay raps Runnin 'round talkin this and talkin that See me in the streets, tried to give me dap Andrew Cunanan ass niggaz My two cannons blast niggaz, ass niggaz Got me fucked up in the game, get your shirt stained Keep your five mics nigga, give me the 'caine Do the shit to clean my money dummies, gleamed the wrist out Cop the pist-al, nigga, talk shit now, uh *Repeat Shyne Bling bling, it's a Bad Boy thing Bullets heat-seekin, streep sweepin, with an evil grin Watch you die, one love, one life, one Shyne Y'all niggaz ain't sayin nothin, like a mime Every line, I live it, I write it with a pencil so niggaz die of lead poison if they bite it, hate it but recite it It's a G thang, me and Puff in St. Bart's set it off Bitches walkin topless with G-strings, menage' Bust shots at your crew, another charge As the gulf stream fly through the fog Make ya popular Pockets filled with more high notes than the opera Franklins on top of the - Jacksons My nigga Ty leave you tired Bad Boy, repsect it or die, coward *Repeat x2 [Barrington Levy] Man a Bad Boy on the corner So move from on here, cause we a dange-rous Man a Bad Boy on the corner So move from on here, cause we a dange-rous {*Barrington skats and shouts to the fade*} |
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| 5. |
| 4:31 |
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[Shyne]
Let's go Shyne, pro, bust pipes get right Bang, stop, roll head throw the dice White Air Force Ones, monies in rubber bands America's number one dope man Racin through the city with Uncle Paul and Diddy Hennesey frontin, lookin brock and gritty Tryin to meet somethin, so I can skeeet somethin Five with it, slide with it, P hit it, I hit it What's it all about? Servin yea every day We roll, send a foe mix those and bulletholes Livin in vein, ice flowin through my veins I'm light in the change, 'til they put it in my brain Bulletproof sedans, rich bitches throwin me kisses, takin my pictures License to kill, I ain't with a lot of talkin Try conversatin from the coffin *All my niggaz wildin, let me see your hands (WHOA-O-OH-OHH) All my bitches stylin, let me see your hands (WHOA-O-OH-OHH) x4 [Shyne] Just tossed the bail so now I'm free Bout to get in the kitchen to cook a key Who you know that could double up like me? The hottest nigga up in N-Y-C I'm that nigga comin through, doin what he does Rocks in his ears lookin like light bulbs Desert snubs, pierce your skull Criminal mindstate, I bring sale weight I just happen to rhyme great, pipelines and gates in fifty-nine states, raisin the rates Got my mind right, like Al Pacino and Nino I head to Capitol Hill to kidnap Janet Reno Monster flow, words droppin and shockin Gun cockin and poppin, somebody call Cochran Boats of coke at the port Import, export, have my bitches transport *Repeat [Shyne] Get pussy in a bed full of dough, nose full of blow The feds is in town I gots to get low, uhh Pants saggin low, get at bitches like yo Hop in the truck bitch let's go No time to waste, nine in my waist, ready for war anytime anyplace, fuck it just another case One life to live and I'ma live new bad town Gettin mine, bottom line, we'll be cuttin dimes or rhymes Cold hearts, shootouts and fast cars 'til I'm behind bars or in the graveyard Blast a foe for capital the master flow is masterful y'all vaginal Bling'n hard, bracelets to the necklace Lookin like effect the flow is infectious Pocket fills, multi-million dollars deal Flip more bricks than Tetris, what you feel? *Repeat x2 *Repeat x2 |
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| 6. |
| 1:02 |
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The lord is my shepherd
Let's get this coke measured And as I walk through the valley of the shadow of gangstas I fears nothin but God and bein broke I stack paper and flow to fast cars in the presence of my enemies Niggas waitin for me to break Shit, aint nothin foldin but my money We them niggas wit big guns and big dicks We afraid of bein broke, so we shed bricks This thing of ours, will never be devoured Bad Boys,we move in silence In the name of power, money, and glory forever and ever Amen. |
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| 7. |
| 5:17 |
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It's a new day in the rap game!
Nobody sells records but Shyne Po! [Verse 1] My life had it's ups and downs, but I don't regret nothin' I had the whole tri-state high, nigga I ain't frontin' at Fifteen I sold my first bag of dope used to stick Dominicans, burner under the coat gettin' like 15 grams, a half a Ki at Fifteen man, a nigga just glad to be gettin' some shorts, me and my Man from a Hundred and Fifth he knew some Dominican niggas that wanted a clique to hold 'em down, shoot niggas in the head throw 'em out windows if they were late with the bread basically I'm enforcin' around heavy coke, when nobody's lookin' I'd be dippin' in the portion they wasn't missin' it so I got my hustle on the side, flippin' it sellin' like 500 bottles and Nicks, started minor but I always knew I'd turn a big apple into cider. Niggas...niggas just ain't built like me... stand up niggas...since 15 I been servin' fiends and loadin' magazines... takin' shots..burnin' blocks.. this ain't no fuckin' rap. [Verse 2] Everything was everything 'till my Man got pinched he had a shoot-out with the cops in front of the precinct other than that, I went from enforcer to movin' product, straight white powder now, gettin' it the hardest nigga in the street my first car was a 190 Benz with Louie Vaton seats buyin' out the bar at the rooftop I had a few spots one called the jukebox where I was gettin' like 50 a brick 2 or 3 bricks a day, makin' mothafuckas sick my Cousin Ron a crook from the Brook was torchin' any niggas whisperin' or talkin' 'bout extortion shit was goin' right and only one better when I got my Italian connect, hittin' me with pure Heroin moved to 116th, started seein' real dinero then empire buildin', the shit was takin' flight had my bitches cuttin' up like 10 Ki's a night mixin' lactose, Bonita, and Quenii I was the first Black nigga with mafia ties leased my soul to the Devil with the option to buy. Yo..bangin' for real.. niggas is thinkin' rap, I'm thinkin' laundromat.. we washin' this money... you think this shit is about rhymes... you'll find yourself under the fuckin' ground...you know?.. we get low when the Feds is in town.. this is justice.. we playin' the pop charts and still lettin' them things pop off... [Verse 3] At 21 I was a legend, had the game transformed controllin' manufacturin' and distribution of Heron throughout the tri-state, high stakes I spent Hundreds of Thou's out of paper bags you couldn't name a car I ain't have every minute new tags Seven series to the Five-Sixty drop nigga I was givin' away blocks nigga fast cars, fast money, slow deaths this things of ours had me doin' a hundred miles an hour through the City evadin' the Feds started this shit called the counsel and we all made a pledge not to fuck each others bitches or touch each others riches on top or broke never break this oath every nigga in the counsel was a boss we used to put coke on our dick and make bitches suck it off it was alright 'till I got caught charged with an Eight-Forty-Eight behind Marion steel gates niggas started shittin', actin' bizarre drivin' my cars, fuckin' my broads, breakin' the laws same niggas I took care of and got money wit' was on some funny shit if I was different I'd snitch what would you do if you got Millions with niggas and they had no love for ya? couldn't pay for ya lawyer I figured shit, why sit in a cell to rot? I'll be out in Ten, start over again throw those boys in the pot, but I couldn't do it you couldn't understand it of you ain't been through it there's rules to this shit and I couldn't break 'em death before dishonor 'till I meet Satan...I know he's waitin'. God forgive me...you've never seen a nigga like me in your life... I'm what these lil' niggas rap about... thats me they talkin' 'bout in they rhymes... I did that time...I flipped that dime... shoot-outs, jet planes, cocaine and automobiles... The Life...love it |
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| 8. |
| 3:48 |
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[Shyne]
Geah, uhh, uhh, uhh Uh-huh, like that Geah, uhh Ten bricks nigga in the air, hold tec It's that motherfuckin nigga named Shyne Nothin but cum for these bitches, love none for these bitches It's that motherfuckin nigga named Shyne What's my motherfuckin name? Put a bullet in your brain Leave your shirt stained, guns and cocaine It's the best of a V&E I'm like homes in Charlie's Angels, y'all never seein me Heavenly indeed, measure me a key My moms was a virgin when she had me I rock flows, top O's, better yet, sell it wet Tape ki's to bitches, I need the riches Scene switches, big bitches, to hide snitches Smile for the feds as they take pictures It's the young G speakin; leavin niggaz leakin Shots repeatin; around the clip somethin bound to hit Y'all motherfuckers was counterfeit Eat a dick and choke, as I sniff coke Shyne pro, watch how you pronounce the shit G'z up, hoes down while you motherfuckers bounce to this *Before your dog you're dyin and bustin your iron Take the stand you're lyin, it's ok If you cook it, cut it, watch - flooded Hit niggaz in public and bitches love it, it's ok If you high right now as they play this in the club lookin for somethin to fuck, it's ok If you startin with her, it's ok If you snotty with him, it's ok [Shyne] With so much blocks in the N-Y-C to burn 'em all down is kinda hard for me But uhh, somehow, someway I keep takin over motherfucker's gates like every single day It's, the, rap, singer Slash, coke, crack, slinger Sling crack sling smack sling dick to dingbats that try to pussy bootchie coochie, I'm in that Kingpin raps, I spit 'em, fed NARC's, I dip 'em Bentley and large rims spinnin, the shit is sickenin My rhymes, my flow, I got all the symptoms Rinks and links and trips to Harry Winston Born sinner; think that model bitch I'm with is slim? You chances of seein me are slimmer I was through with it, before y'all knew what to do with it Put my finger in the ground and turn the world around *Repeat [Shyne] From hip-hop to them hot blocks It ain't never gon' stop; well maybe for three days but then I'll return, more blacks to burn for more yea Get them her way sittin up on Broadway (geah) Livin the life, ridin on Twinkies Thirty inch rims spinnin, bitches is grinnin Roscoe on my left, wonderin where the pussy at so I can scheme the dope, get the pussy and float Big things, live from the Empire State where niggaz, live in fear of a 8-48 Don't owe my favors, jewelers deliberate Shops have me spinnin like you was doin a figure eight Gun in your mouth bitch, got a bitter taste Push up hard on the arms - uhh, bitter face Guerilla pimpin indeed Shit I'm like a perm; somethin every girl in the ghetto need *Repeat x2 |
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| 9. |
| 3:29 | 
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| 10. |
| 1:03 |
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| 11. |
| 4:17 |
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[Shyne]
Uhh, uhh In front of Gucci in the winter, I seen ya witcha girl Just walkin uh, in your chinchilla fur I was laid up in the Coupe, back shade up Lookin at cha face just pure wit no makeup A little bit of Mac lip gloss, hair in a bun well done Lookin for a ring, I seen none So I hopped out the Coupe in hot pursuit to stop and, introduce Like I'm Shyne, and you? You my destiny And you're diamond cluster, too much just to touch ya Perfume, down to ya structure Think I'll wait, until the second night to fuck ya I wanna marry you, nah I'm just playin But we can start wit a few nights, out in Malibu Surfin, be layin up on Persians Here's my number; put in ya purse and call me *On the telephone, she heard my voice Tell me to pick her up in my Rolls Royce If my Rolls Royce, is not for ladies Then girl I'm gonna take you in my Mercedes If my Mercedes will not fill up wit the disease Then girl I'm gonna take you in my Firebird If my Firebird cannot take the curve Girl put your ass in the damn Metro bus [Shyne] I'm gettin clo-ser, my player days is o-ver Well maybe not completely But still and all, come here, rest ya head on my bed And let me get between ya legs Lay on ya back, uh - take it from the back like a bad girl suppose to, I know you like that Scream, wake the neighbors from they sleep Grab the sheets witcha teeth, wiggle ya butt cheeks Quarter styles over ya body, lick you up Treat you like a convenience store, stick you up Take you to the balcony, pick you up So you can look at the city, while I'm diggin ya kitty Then we drive into the sunset, pull over Get up on the hood ma, I ain't done yet, uhh *Repeat [Shyne] (Barrington Levy) We've been together for a few months now Did it all, Four Seasons to the Trump Beverly Hills bungalows in ya underclothes In Paris, Eiffel Tower bubble baths and showers In a silindo sheen, sincere is what you seem See me flip a couple things, load up magazines And I - I think you might be the right one, whoa (the right one) Wait press the brakes, gotta investigate What I do know - to you it don't matter Whether my pockets is slim or fatter Whether it's BBQ's or Mr. Child's platter Even if I slip off the success ladder Even if the paragraphs, didn't hit the charts and smash If my car was a train on the surface or back I think you'd be right there (know you'll be right there) Cause we right there, no Cartier charms Just you in my arms, no Sean don Just a bottle of Evian; c'mon, uh *Repeat [Barrington Levy] So I draw from my tonic and I take one sip Should've seen me cause I gallop like a horse'll get whipped Come quick yeahhhhhhhhh, come quick whoaaaaaaaaaa Cause you I love, and not another Although some may change, girl you know I will never I'ma love love love love love love you forever, oh-ii Always be there - for me Always be there Be there for me Ohhhhhhhhh, ayah, ayah, ayah, ayah, ayah Ohhhhhhhhh For me, for me.. |
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| 12. |
| 2:59 |
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[Shyne]
Look at this nigga, stuntin in front of Justin's, actin silly If it wasn't cops all over, I'd smack him with this milli You hoe niggaz move a brick and think they rich Get a few guns and a click and wanna take over shit Ain't that the same kid that shot Reg in the head? Turned him into a carrot, he might as well have been dead Just came home from doin ten up in the Feds Be extortin kingpins for they horse and they bread Had the whole Brooklyn under pressure, I'm surprised he ain't test ya Mad niggaz know better I ain't comin up offa, no cheddar, no bricks, no nothin I'll kick that motherfucker, FUCK HIM, yeah I'll pay him somethin Pay his ass a visit, blow his brains on the sidewalk Let him collect his thoughts.. .. I'm the strongest force in New York til I'm a corpse, and even then, I'll be buried with bricks and money-filled vaults, seventeen shots and two weeks later I'm in the spot, takin it light Watchin the Tyson fight it's packed, uh with killers and rats Dope dealers, money hungry bitches, malicious Cars pilin up the block for blocks nigga, Bentleys and 6's This the place to be, where all the - gangsters meet As I pick up my drink, I see my man Fat Pete But before I could walk over, two niggaz tapped him on the shoulder and unloaded in his face, bullets flyin all over the place Mirrors shatterin, people scatterin, his bodyguards shot back Missed one but hit the other, in the abdomen, they both fled But who the fuck would do somethin so - brazen and reckless? Had to be some niggaz tryin to send a message {*phone ringing*} Next day I got a call from uptown to, come have a meetin with The Council bout the shit that's been goin down Word is, same kid that killed Fat Pete shot Reg in the head Bottom line he's out of control, he got to be dead He's startin to be a real problem Extortin niggaz, Brooklyn through Harlem But he fucked around and crossed the margin, touched one of ours He got to go, he from your hood, handle it Poe Say no mo', I'm out the do' Went back to the spot to grab the guns Semi-auto check, AK-40 check, shotgun check, revolver - that's perfect Called Tiz and told him meet me in an hour Bring the caravan, you know the plan Ski-masks and stockings, seen him down the ave. boppin Him and a friend, just hopped in a Benz Twenty inches on the rims, let's follow 'em slow, keep 'em in sight Wait til he stop at a red light, then roll the window down and kiss them bitches goodnight - they musta saw somethin cause the Benz busted U and came at us firin shots I threw the revolver, grabbed the tec and left the driver's side wet The Benz ran in a store window and got wrecked I hopped out the van, ran up to the scene, still holdin the tec One nigga's body was split in half, the other nigga still movin Heard sirens comin closer, as I'm bout to shoot him But fuck it, I opened his mouth, and let the tec spray and told him tell Satan I'm on my way - die bitch |
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| 13. |
| 3:43 |
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[Shyne]
Hustler, bad motherfucker Brooklyn to the rucker, Cali and back Court cases pendin, all the blood drug money spendin Ferrari engines leave your whole fuckin block tremblin I'm what niggaz wanna be, a straight G Whore bitches wanna suck and fuck for free I'm Alpo, before you snitch dog I switch lines and rhymes faster than I switch cars Ghetto star, name ring in every hood Heartless villain, money driven killin and bury my opposition, for a pot to piss in Knickerbock position, listen *A hundred carats in the watch (THAT'S GANGSTA) Gettin skull off in the parkin lot (THAT'S GANGSTA) Bailin out when you locked (THAT'S GANGSTA) Takin over spots and blocks (THAT'S GANGSTA) x2 [Shyne] I got a question; as serious as cancer Where da fuckin safe at? Somebody better answer before I start killin and fillin these double-I slugs in your mug then you spittin up blood Got dead gangstas rollin over like, "Yo this nigga cold" The way he cut his coke is murder game to his flow Rich is, my only reason for bein, shit I never had hope, until I sold dope Drug game is infectious, got me livin reckless Feds get uptight when they see my watch and necklace glow, fuck 'em, they can't catch me Murder and money, 'til they throw my ashes in the sea *Repeat [Shyne] Mac-10's, crush rocks and drops The best respect, the feds only fuck cops Coke price raisin, task force raidin Bustin at secret agents runnin up out the Days Inn Roller, diamonds and mack-milla's Fillers and loud pipes for all my killers Money hungry honies around, the killer streets and the law The opium and the raw, that's what I live for For cuttin yea, never for today Extended magazines shootouts and ricochets Play a role and catch a bullethole, pop your blood vessels Ain't gonna wait before the smoke settles *Repeat {*scratching "Serious shit"*} [Shyne] Money in brown paper bags (THAT'S GANGSTA) Servin fiends on the ave (THAT'S GANGSTA) Menage red labels (THAT'S GANGSTA) Honies with diamonds up in they navel (THAT'S GANGSTA) Showin love to your hood (THAT'S GANGSTA) Leavin cowards layin where they stood (THAT'S GANGSTA) Floodin your homey's commisary up (THAT'S GANGSTA) Never missin when we bust (THAT'S GANGSTA) Money in brown paper bags (THAT'S GANGSTA) Servin fiends on the ave (THAT'S GANGSTA) Menage red labels (THAT'S GANGSTA) Honies with diamonds up in they navel (THAT'S GANGSTA) Showin love to your hood (THAT'S GANGSTA) |
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| 14. |
| 4:40 |
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[Shyne]
Geah.. new.. My niggaz frontin on pumpin and dumpin, leave 'em on the curb Ridin on twinkies I'm twinkilng gun under my fur Ma what you prefer? His and hers holla and villas, dope dealers and killers who keep it real-a, chase paper fuck bitches they'll always be there Burn blocks, bust your guns, rock your minks with flare Live for the moment, fuck atonement Explain to God when you see him Rlease a bigger day, til your paper reach the ceiling Niggaz, we only live once and I don't know about y'all, but shit I'm on mine like Don Trump, Black Ted Turner, totin burners Open dope spots on every block Jumpin in and out of cherry drops as the plot thickens, watch glistens Feds trail us, surveil us, tell us not enough evidence us Teflon, get knocked, put the bail up and get gone In the name of Brooklyn Vietnam And all you fuckin rappers, for the last time The last name ain't Junior, my name is Shyne Now take a paternity test, there's no relation I'm the fuckin king, nobody stands adjacent *All I wanna do is get a brand new fifth and a few ki's, spend some cheese All I wanna do is see my homies stay fly until we all day, and spend some cheese All I wanna do is get this money washed so I can lay back, and spend some cheese Get right, live life, spend some cheese G's ice, gun fights, spend some cheese [Shyne] Bandana wrap, under my fitted hat I got mines stacked, nigga where yo' ticket at? Floatin countin the two turbo's Bitches I burned know Shyne Poe; Bad Boy - who's fuckin with that? I done burnt down New York, ran through D.C. And this rap shit here, ain't nothin to me Got my murder game down for real Gave lead showers to any coward who sold me flour Poe's my power - these rappers frontin like they uncut raw I'll be the first to tell ya, they talcum powder Actin like I know them, I owe them til I blow them, and leave they face in they fuckin scrotum One change on the pike, under the moonlight Headin nowhere fast, Desert in the airbags Death's around the corner so I make detour slide to the Rucker Firelli's burnin rubbers Pull up in front, let my shit bump Hop out, no respect for the cops Got the glock out, lookin for a knockout Somethin to put a seed in, nah nigga Just somethin I can put some ki's in, come on *Repeat [Shyne] Nigga wait, push rhymes, push fives push wigs back, push weight Runnin narcotics in over twenty-one states Thuggin and buggin I'll crack your fuckin chestplates It's good old America the great, the land of the G Home of the slave Where corrupt politicans and black gangsters is made Where you die at 25, shot up in your Merced's Ridin on blades, livin for today Fuck peace, bustin at the police Young black and just don't give a fuck You'd think it was the Olympics the way niggaz be sprintin and jumpin when my bust, pullin up in bigger trucks like what? Hand on my nuts White gold smile, high profile Bitches love the style How the fur's fittin, gangster slur spittin For my niggaz in Lewisburg sittin I got to get it like Sisqo It's the Don-da-Don-Don-Don Switch flows faster than cops can shoot a black as them bricks keep turnin and them blocks keep burnin, c'mon *Repeat x4 |
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| 15. |
| 2:56 |
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[Shyne]
Yeah, yeah This ones for my Brooklyn playboys This ones for my L.A. playboys This ones for my Chi-town playboys ATL, down south NC, SC Where you be? Come on, just play it with me [Shyne] When it come to hoes, we don't love not one Fuckin a friend ain't no option It's a must, her friend assists like Stockton When we fuck, I gotta have two not one She know a freaky nigga like me Get her wet then I'm out like strike three No doubt, make her girlfriend eat her out After we fuck then the exit be the route Believe me, we don't love them hoes Break out, after we dug them hoes You wanna stay bitch, what'cha talkin 'bout? Put your shoes on and start walkin out *Get out, I don't wanna hug you Get out, bitch I don't love you Get out, what'cha talkin 'bout Put your shoes on and start walkin [Shyne] You know you hittin, you got me lickin the hole Before I'm stickin the hole up in my face In the place most niggas don't see love drug baby I'm about to O.D. cocaine pussy One stroke be a whole ki You're feminine, hood from heaven an' I'll do anything, orals to S and M Keep you satisfied, back certified Come and take a ride, I'll be your great adventure Tell ya friends I bent'cha, who sent'cha? Must'a been God, my bedroom angel taken Lovin the curves as you purr while im stroking Grabbin ya hair, dont'cha dare shed a tear You a good girl, don't cry Shake that thang that I give Throw ya back as I dig Like a broke matress you had me sprung out But ain't nothin changed you got to get out *Repeat To all my niggas that know what I mean When you fuck a bitch good she don't wanna leave I go through this all the time Bitch act like she don't see the exit sign Start cryin, how much she love Shyne Thats the same thing she told my man Brian What the fuck, she think I'm stupid? Don't know my pimp blood is deeply rooted Inherited, that be my heritage That I don't give a fuck about a bitch fetishes So when we fuck, and it's over Throw ya pocketbook, on ya shoulder Put your shoes on and hit the road and if your last name Royce, bitch you Roll *Repeat x2 |
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| 16. |
| 4:12 |
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[Verse 1]
From cuttin' solid Purico to stack Fritos went from grams to kilos Mac in one hand, in the other hand grands and C-notes game got my eyes wider than a 430 Buggy no tellin' what the fuck I'll do for this money stay posted up close with killers and cut throats the thoroughest bitches who in they pussy stuff coke as I cook and cut coke with the bakin' soda Arm and Hammer palmin' hammers think you crazy? nigga, my clique's bananas takin' over with the Mafia hittin' niggas for they bricks like Gracias the cockiest, it's obvious, it's me, he, who? confront frontin' niggas like "You want it? well nigga, me too" what the fuck, I'm callin' your bluff, niggas act like they stopped makin' guns after they made yours I'm sponsored by the NRA, DOA rules grin and stand over your coffin like "Hey you!" tell the Devil I'm comin', keep it hot for now I got my eyes on a billboard spot don't stop. *Die for it take the stand, lie for it blow trial, get up in the chair and fry for it never tellin' or snitchin' rather swim with the fish'n mothafucka respect it, the commission x2 [Verse 2] (First 4 lines with Jamaican accent) I buy and sell bricks with my nigga P.D. down with the team called B.B.E. now if you want to join the team you know you must see me buy ya can't talk to FEDS or dick R.I.D. It's a cold World baby boy, fuck it, I'm colder Animals on my back keep my warm, my armor Frank Lucas persona, warmin' coke up in the sauna let me warn ya, trip against my team you's a goner infact it's drastic a couple Million in the mattress with a safe dick I say fuck taxes rather endulge in duct tape pig tie tactics crime pays nigga, Nine-Hundred and Ninety-Nine ways my destiny's vague, will I survive or blow trial? lay shot up, Puff cryin' in denial while my enemies smile, buried in style Gucci suits and cufflings sneakin' drugs through Heavens customs. *Repeat [Verse 3] POP POP POP! warning shot, who's to blame Shyne mothafucka, don't forget the name stretch the Caine, to cop the house and the plane 'till my Massacre, slain brains hang from the window of my Range fuck the FEDS, 2 green and one red Firm tight, hold the dice in this game of life Aces suffice paper's a must Fallen Angels and Angel dust my team do dirt to avoid layin' in the dust Million dollar portraits in my fortress of course it's Po bloodstainin', aeroplanin', Four-Hundred horses slow Platinum cable, round table, so all the bosses know I'm takin' over 'cause they coke got too much bakin' soda they say money ain't everything you fuckin' right nigga, it's the only thing in God we trust, the Holy thing I look into my enemy's eye let 'em know you play fly you go out Kennedy style. *Repeat x2 |
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