Talk to me man
This ya boy Young Hova
yo turn the muh'fuckin noise up
We'll get right
into the proceedings this evening
Headphones are distortin
bring it down a lil' bit
Okay now we workin wit it
The boy Face on the bassline
Face Mob
Welcome to New York City
it's ya boy Young Hov' chea
Kanye West on the track whoo
Chi Town what's goin on now
Can I talk to y'all for a minute
Lemme talk to y'all for a minute
Just gimme a minute of ya time baby
I don't want much whoo
Lemme talk to these muh'fuckas uhh
Guess who's bizack
You still smellin crack
in my clothes
Don't make me have to relapse
on these hoes
Take it back out to taxin them roads
When I was huggin it
niggaz couldn't do nuttin wit it
Straight from the oven wit it
came from the dirt
I emerged from it all
without a stain on my shirt
You can blame my old earth
for the shit she instilled in me
Still with me pain plus work
Shit she made me milk this game
for all it's worth
That's right these niggaz
can't fuck with me
I'm callin guts everytime
drag my nuts everytime
Homey we make
a great combination don't we
Me and the Face Mob
everytime we face off
Face it y'all
y'all niggaz playin basic ball
I'm on the block like
I'm eight feet tall
Homey I'm in the drop
with the AC on
That's why the
streets embrace me dawg
I'm so cool
Guess who's bizack
Back on the block
with the old Face Mob
Mack Mittens and Hov'
Don't make me relapse
Back to the block with the fo'
Cuz this street shit is all I know
From the womb to the tomb
a hot pot of joy and a spoon
Tryna make me
forty thousand and move
Motels star studded
rock stars and goons
Plain clothes wanna run
in my room whooooo
But nigga guess who's bizack
It's ya boy Face Mob
Started with an eightball
gotta get this cake dawg
Give niggaz a break nah
you know how the game go
Fuck you think I slang fo'
to go against the grain no
I'm out here to grind mo'
rapped up in the paper chase
I wanna fuck a fine hoe
and candy paint the 88
Don't got no wholesale
cuz that ain't how I wanna run it
Here take these five stones
and bring a nigga back a hundred
Gotta see my feet dude
you do shit a fiend do
The fire get too hot in the kitchen
I hit the streets fool
Money is an issue
and that's on the fa'
shizzle my nizzle
Ya block warm
then I come by with the fizzle
And make fa' sho'
I get to work mines
for part of the time
We go to war
and you ain't makin a dime ha ha
Cuz I got shit to lose
a nigga out here payin his dues
My baby walkin gotta
get him some shoes
It's a new game doin
lemme give ya the rules
Get outta line
and I'ma give ya the blues
It's a new game doin
lemme give ya the rules
Get outta line
nd I'ma give ya the blues whoa
Guess who's bizack
The boy B. Mizack
a.k.a. Mr. Crack A Brick
Turn a whole one from a half a brick
look I mastered this
You can smell it
once the plastic rips
A hot plate'll make ya swell up
if ya gasket clicked
You can make ya chips swell up
ya don't hafta pitch
Play them corners like a safety
watch the traffic switch
Young'n never pump fake
and you'll get past the blitz
And keep ya whole hood on flip
like on box spring
Pissy Mack and shit
low old box of things
Strictly glassy shit
I hug the block like a quart of water
Shit I used to hug a corner
like a old deuce and a quarter
Till like deuce in the mornin
with the old heads
Slangin loose quarters
this Philly cat back gatted had it
Still fuckin with them crack addicts
Still bustin with that black matic
Guess who's bizack
Back on the block
with the old Face Mob
Mack Mittens and Hov'
Don't make me relapse
Back to the block with the fo'
Cuz this street shit is all I know