[Styles P]
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Holiday Styles
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Bitch, I get you shot in the head or shot in the neck
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if I ain't gettin proper respect
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I don't care if you rap, I still spit in your grill
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I don't give a fuck, never have, never will
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If it ain't on your hip, then you're lookin to die
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I ain't tryin to be the nigga that's gonna look at the sky
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Ask God why I'm broke, bitch, I'm cooking the pie
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We all gon' die, sooner or later, matter of time
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My niggaz sell crack, with a package of dimes
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Hundred or more, in front of the store, waitin to bubble
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Brand new nine, and an eight in a bubble
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I put sixteen above ya neck, I love my set
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Niggaz think they a thug, then thug to death (uh-huh)
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Cause the P gonna squeeze 'til no slugs is left (what)
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You know I'm good with a hundred of 'dro, gun and an O
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You think your shit butter? Hop in front of this toast
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[Sheik]
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Yo, aiyyo, aiyyo
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I say what I want, fuck what y'all think is cool
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And I hate cops, cause most y'all was dicks in school
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No pussy gettin niggaz tryin to cuff the God
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Play Sheik out in the yard, but that shit too hard
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My dough too long, nowadays, my flow too strong
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What y'all make in a year, I kick that for a song
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Check my car, I don't care, I don't play fair
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Keep some shit in the stash box, then get me the chair
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And it don't buck shot and the blast is hard to hear
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I'm a true thug nigga, bring it straight to your crew
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Small yell when I rap, I'm basically talkin to you
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You see the pain in my eye? Nigga, the flame in my eye?
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I'm tryin to leave my kids some real fuckin change when I die
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from rappin or tellin some cat to reach for the sky
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I'm that hunt down nigga, with the four pound nigga
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Bounty hunt your whole crew til my bullets go through, WHAT?
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[Jadakiss]
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Yo, yo, yo, yo
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All I need is a big gun and a Coupe that's crazy quick
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A nice house with five rooms, maybe six
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A town where money is coming, eighty bricks
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Break 'em down to all twenties, is a crazy flip
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Bet you never even felt the heat
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til I put the M1 next to your waves and melt the grease
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Streets help niggaz; niggaz don't help the streets
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Y'all use beats for help; we help the beats
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Who want it with me? Who want it with Sheek? Who want it with P?
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If I say so myself, it's a wonderful three
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Be in the hood with all your jewels in the glovebox
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Same niggas that-a rob you love L.O.X. (uh)
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All types of burners, even snub glocks (uh)
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Nice size tecs you could carry in your sweats (uh)
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Find your man dead in the trunk of a car (uh)
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It's Jada {*mwwaa*} responsible for breakin your heart (uh)
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Uh
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[Drag-On]
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Creep through the streets
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For some of y'all rappers, that's mighty hard
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Me the Security? Protectin my body? I let my shotty guard
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Put chill pills in brains, bullets like Tylenol
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Make niggaz drowsy from the blood loss, got em noddin off
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And take casket naps, fuck that
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You shoulda never let this bastard rap
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All I know is cold winter, hot slugs through your snorkel
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No parents, tale from my horror's no morals
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Raised in the wrong era, with no guidance
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So you dyin? It's no problem, no lyin
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Drag's fire; so ya hamburger beef? I french-fry 'em
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Drag done ate your food
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Like I know to raise your dukes so guard your chin up
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Drag barrels, but shit, I spit-bubble your skin up
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Drag scorch niggaz for dinner but season 'em well
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I don't brag I let the streets tell
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Po'-po' now you see he fell
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[DMX] {*overlapping last line*}
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Uh, uh, now you motherfuckers
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know what my name means when you hear it in the streets (uh)
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Y'all bitches fear it cause you weak
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You wanna hear it? I make it speak (WHAT?)
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You ain't ever bust a gun, but there's a lot of greasy talkin (uh-huh)
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What the science behind that son? (I don't know)
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A lot of easy walkin
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I bust shit down (uh) got down (uh) kick down (uh) shot down (uh)
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Ain't tryin to talk about what I got now, but I got now (WHAT?)
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I ain't never sold a brick, I done stuck niggaz up (c'mon)
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And for talkin too much shit? I done fucked niggaz up (uh)
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It can get "Dark" for real, and I think you already know that (uh-huh)
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| Well think about it with the brick in y |
