(feat. Lord Tariq, Royce the 5-9)



[Woman] Dad-da

[Baby] Dad-da da-da

[Woman] Ma-ma

[Baby] Ma-ma-ma

[Woman] Ma-ma

[Baby] Ma-ma



[Evil Dee]

Word up, yaknowhaImsayin

It's about to happen, Evil Dee in the area [Phone rings]

Said it's about to happen, said it's about to change

Word up!

[Phone rings]

[Button is pushed]

[Woman on phone]

Turn that damn music down man! [music fades]

Turn that music down man, your shakin the damn house!

What's wrong with you? This is not a club!

[Music starts again]



[Lord Tariq]

From a killer to a killer, rap cats to the cap peelers

The hustlers, the coke, smoke, dope, and crack dealers

On the streets of New York you can't find none realer

I survived gunshots, cops, and all fed squealers

We bled for the scrilla, chuggin shots of Tequilas

But now y'all gone feel us, cuz the mission is to kill ya

Nine milli' is the slug, and thug the lifestyle

And I'll rip your bro, cause bro I'm quite wild

So here, take this rag and wipe your smile

Cuz when I pull shit, the bullshit might go down

I got dawgs in the ghettos, and the white boys town

That'll die for the cause, I'm controllin the board

Through many cities abroad

From the counties of Cali, to C74, B I'm heavily lawed

I invest in, Bronx blots, from Rosedale and Creston

Top of that ho sale, and have my whole sale

Get 'em gear, a salary and hope it goes well

'Til I'm shot or locked up and can't post no bail

Y'all are frail, y'all niggas can't fuck with what we into

Knife is the apparel, and the nine is the utensil

Everthing official, made to get you raisin issues

When the bullets blaze we hit'chu

Nothin less they're grazin tissues

My mind designed for every rhyme you spit, I spit two

My nines designed to split you in two, get up in you



[Man with an island accent]

This is live and direct

Live and direct

You know what live and direct means?

It means live and direct



[Royce the 5-9]

You motherfucker'll get tore up and be tore

By the walkin bomb, that'll blow up and reform

Grow up, then reborn

Told you that I'm a star that's gone live forever

Serve a life sentence and get out and go to the bar

So nigga take that {*gunshot*} If I gotta go to the car

Or that {*gunshot*} that {*gunshot*} if I gotta throw it in park

The iron'll wet you, the Mossberg pump

With the buckshot shells'll turn a nigga into chinese checkers

I don't even start writin 'til I'm on my 3rd fifth

This is what you get when Beatminerz meet the Wordsmiths

Everytime I go out, I cop somethin new

Everytime I throw this right hand, I knock somethin loose

Who the fuck think they can see me, might as well call the wife

And tell your not comin home and to take it easy

My guns don't snoop, they woof, at them sissy-ass niggas

Type that acidentally shoot they foot

Desert Eagle too big for you bitch-ass niggas

Soft-ass punks, can't take the cake back niggas

And you wonder why they suckin my dick

Or why I keep a suitcase with thirty grand handcuffed to my wrist

Or why the rocks could possibly make you lose your sight blinkin, on the wrist

Lookin like haledge and hazard lights blinkin

Royce the 5-9 and Tariq about to sprinkle gunpowder on all beef

Now who the fuck want it, nigga



[Man with island accent]

Now hear this!

You little spit and chew out sound boy

If an stick you conquer my experience I will work

Ya must think a some kings in the CIA gettin crowned

No no no, no no no no way

Ya got to work HARD for it

Don't bring no, go up and sound until it get down

Come wit it!