DJ Clue Presents: Backstage

[Jadakiss]<br>Yo even if I just cooked up, if money`s comin give you it moist<br>And don`t be scared to die, I aint give you a choice<br>Niggas`ll try to kill you cuz of what they think you got<br>And the ambulance`ll take longer if they think you shot<br>Nigga fuck the bullshit, Kiss keep a full clip<br>In front of the store rockin gauze in the woolrich<br>Blowin sticky green grass, that`ll sit me on my ass<br>Wit a mean sports coupe with 160 on the dash<br>So what I got a Rollie, and it got alotta ice<br>I pull my gun out, and bet I get another one tonight<br>Your brother died, bet your mother lose another son tonight<br>I`m clever, only time we party, when we beat a body<br>Or when they free Gotti, so that means never<br>To my niggas in they cell wit a hour of rec<br>Or K.L., for beatin a coward to death<br>I feel y`all, so feel me, even if y`all guilty<br>Time y`all niggas come home, the god`ll be filthy<br>Even though by then these faggots probably be done killed me<br>I tell my son, keep it real, give y`all niggas each a bill<br>So what`s the deal, niggas y`all know the deal, uh<br><br>CHORUS: Jadakiss<br>Who did you expect, what, L O X to the death<br>And we go hard dog, everytime, nothing less<br>Catch us at the dice game, blowin a thou<br>Never go in to trial, coppin out, holdin it down<br>We could get it on, any way shape or form<br>Any day of the week, Styles, Jada, and Sheek<br>It aint hot `less we are niggas we are the heat<br>*We Are The Streets* and we makin it hard to eat<br><br>[Sheek]<br>Ayo, you say fuck me, I feel the same way about you bitch<br>Niggas made you rich and now you act like this<br>Who them thuggest niggas on your team, guns to the triple beam<br>Without rap my nickles gleam, drug money make it seem<br>Fast, niggas puff hydro and hash like it`s nicotine<br>Fake niggas, rid o theem, who flip from wealth<br>You want space, I give your whole hospital room to yourself<br>I got doctors who make housecalls when niggas get hit<br>That way the press and the cops run shit, feel me kid<br>When it comes to thuggin it, nigga that`s my sport<br>I even pick up your shells so you won`t get caught<br>Dumb dumbs, niggas camouflaged playin as bums<br>Pop up, shoot through the liquor bottle, straighten your lungs<br>Take the bum clothes off, buy a paper at the newsstand<br>Walk by me, scream out, "Somebody help this man"<br>Not even life insurance helpin your fam, I`m takin that<br>I`m from Yonkers motherfucker, where the murderers at<br>Murderous gat, we bloodline no cur in our pack<br>You owe us dough, have it as that, I leave it at that, faggots<br><br>CHORUS<br><br>[Styles]<br>Spittin to live, two bullets hittin your ribs<br>You christen your kids, I let my son listen to B.I.G.<br>I won`t stop til a thousand niggas fit in my crib<br>I won`t be happy til my last nigga finish his bid<br>All on the top, yeah you could ball in a drop<br>I`d rather, ball in a yacht, no callin the cops<br>In the middle of the ocean, lettin my nine pop<br>Givin a dime cock, blowin away<br>Baggin the yae, tryin to get a wagon a day<br>Pick up a quarter, and still throw my chain in the water<br>Watch on the floor, bitch I`ll put my glock in your jaw<br>Niggas think they own a label, just signed a deal<br>You poppin that bullshit they might find you killed<br>Slum throwin the highway, behind the wheel<br>Or you could do it my way, relax and chill<br>You could worship SP sell cracks and peels<br>Bitch I smack your mouth while you smoke in the field<br>Run up in your house, then alarmin your grill<br>Drama for real, you never seen honor and will<br>Til you wake up in the mornin and your mama is killed<br><br>CHORUS