Up Close and Personal

[unknown singer]<br>Ohhhhh.. senorita.. when the evening sun go down<br>I come to.. serenade you.. from another part, of town<br> {*car tires peeling out*}<br><br>[Angie Martinez]<br>Let`s get it on it`s Angie Mar` reportin live from the streets<br>From Y.O. to Philly and Harlem to Q.B.<br>When it drops it`s game over, you`ll see<br>Introducing, Jadakiss and Styles P, where you at?<br><br>[The L.O.X.]<br>Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo<br>You know we still in the hood dog, in front of the store<br> With the work across the street and the gun in the stall<br>Soon as somethin happen niggaz wanna run to the law<br> You know the code of the streets, never run to the law<br>That`s why I can`t even run `less I run with a four<br>or I walk with a three, come and talk to `em P<br> You can catch me down bottom with a bird and a glock<br> On the block makin money where they murder a lot<br>Or you can catch me up top shootin dice for a yard<br> I`m talkin six digits, niggaz bet the house or the car<br> You can catch me hittin the spliff, sick in the pit<br> On the fiend like I`m missin my shit, they think I`m crazy<br>Catch me hittin your lady in my Mercedes<br>Bird on your baby, fuck you I`m keepin it gravy<br>L.O.X. hold the hammers<br> like we waitin for screws<br>With Angie Mar` BLOWIN MOTHERFUCKERS OUT OF THEY SHOES, WHAT?<br><br>[Angie Martinez]<br>Comin live from the streets where some died tryin to eat<br>From Y.O. to Philly, from Harlem to Q.B.<br>And when it drops, game over, you`ll see<br>Introducin, Beanie Sigel, tell me how you livin?<br><br>[Beanie Sigel]<br>Aiyyo, I`ve been kickin murder - since Adidas with thick strings<br>T.I. sweatsuits, Pumas with thick chains<br>Four finger rings, black belts with brass names<br>I was spittin flames since niggaz was pitchin change<br>I`m a hard knock kiddo, always played the middle<br>Threw flacks in the crack game, getchu if I can getchu<br>Since a buck, played the highway, dodgin the troop boys<br>Jumpin in and out of Coupes, wavin for Duke boys<br>Always chased a penny, copped quarter waters<br>Tried to make a dollar chased my pop`s boss daughters<br>Tryin to make my name, global, in all four corners<br>Philly baller, gamin in all four quarters<br>Never worked, never will - all my hoes buy my clothes<br>I can`t go broke, never will - all my bros buy my O`s<br>I`m the best thing that linked up with New York since Sprewell<br>I murder, nuttin further - fill in the details<br><br>[Brett]<br>I`m here, it`s over, fuck how y`all feel<br>When I drop, y`all gon` realize it`s all real<br>Bein left for dead, tied up, smoke `til I was dried up<br>So high up, seem like the sky ducked, high what?<br>Life was rough, but now it`s nothin to hide<br>Used to click and be quick to put this gun to yo` side<br>Be like, "That chain nice - I like that pal.<br>Matter fact {*click click*} I`d like that now."<br>You`ve got game? Call the name, just spell the name right<br>Brett, one of the best rappers ever to touch a mic<br>It`s prophecized I`d write, spit scriptures mind blowin<br>`til my coffin top close and heaven skies open<br>Fear no man`s my slogan, I hope y`all believe<br>I`m just like you, fear nuttin human that bleeds<br>My mind breed two movies, six ab-lums, a hundred poems<br>Thirty R&B joints, I`m beyond the norm, y`all just mad<br>I`m just glad, got my time to shine<br>Y`all the type to hit three hundred bars and run out of rhymes<br><br>[Angie Martinez]<br>Brett, from my ByStorm family, with Angie<br>Come live from the streets, from Harlem to Q.B.<br>And when it drops, game over, you`ll see<br>Introducin, finally, the legendary Kool G.<br><br>[Kool G. Rap]<br>It`s B.G.S. kid so what you facin? Caps racin<br>Decapitation twenty buck-fifties and lacerations<br>Guerilla fam` camouflaged out in the grass waitin<br>to blass your nation slash like Jason and bash your face in<br>We ass lacin top bodies and half in the basement<br>Our style, cast you so bad you`ll need plastic replacement<br>When gats is raised in, fascination blastin and blazin<br>Evacuation for your whole staff there`s gas in the tank and<br>Gets back abrasions from cap grazin, defy gravitation<br>Pull my shit back squeeze bust it like masturbation<br>Hold fort, hold the blow torch, leave your soul scorched<br>with no remorse, the state of New York, get your shit caught<br>When niggaz hawk, let the fifth talk<br>So tell me who`s the next man to flip?