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