Signs Of A Storm lyrics

CAN YOU HEAR THE RAIN
CAN YOU HEAR THE THUNDER
CAN YOU FEEL THE RAIN
AND THE SOUNDS OF A THUNDER CRY


THE DARK SKIES OVERHEAD
ARE THE SURE SIGNS OF A STORM
AND AS THE NIGHT IT CLOSES IN
THE SHADOWS THEY TAKE THEIR FORM,


I HEAR THE SOUNDS OF A TRAIN
BUT WILL THEY LET ME ON BOARD
AND AS THE WHISTLE BLOWS I KNOW IT'S THE FINAL CALL


DO YOU SEE THE RAINFALL
THE THUNDER IS THE ANGEL'S CALL
THE DARK CLOUDS OVERHEAD
ARE THE SURE SIGNS OF A STORM


A.B.O.F.A. PRODUCTIONS COPRRIGHT © 2003

these lyrics are submitted by FF5 Fan

Chorus

I say boot up or shut up
Nigga get yo life lit up
Yeah yeah yeah wootay
I say boot up or shut up or
Get yo fuckin' life lit up
Yeah yeah yeah wootay

First Verse
{Tec-9}

Chillin' on the set with the fully automatic tec
Never was caught slippin' that's how I got my respect
I pop 'em up pop 'em up watchin' bleed to death
Ya played with the Tec-9 now ya takin' yo last breath
Now everybody comin' up to be the rulers and gangsters
Now everybody comin' up to be the rulers and gangsters
Now everybody comin' up to be the rulers and gangsters
But I'm a tell you who the real fuckin' killer is
It's an third ward nigga it's an third ward nigga
Yes it's an third ward nigga got the bitches and money
While I'm chillin' on the corner I'm a get fucked up
My nigga T got a forty and brought two cups
Lil' Ya is chillin' Yella is thuggin' and talkin' on the phone
And I'm chillin' on 6th and Baronne they call us
U.N.L.V. U.N.L.V. we comin straight out the
Fuckin' one two three let a bitch rub up on us
I'm a load my chrome fat gangster lil' somethin'
Bout 6th and Baronne

Second Verse
{Lil' Ya}

I was chillin' on the corner of 6th and Baronne
With a forty in my hand and about to get tore
I got my dope stash and a tec on my side
For them jokin' mutherfuckers who be doin' drivebys
For them pussy ass niggas I've been try'na kill
I got a bullet proof vest and it's made of steel
For you sissy ass niggas thinkin' they hard
I get my tec and my nine and bout to pull yo car
When a nigga's on the set we makin' money again
Drinkin' forty red bullets smokin' boo-koo weed
It's fucked up gettin' drunk makin' money havin' fun
Five-0 come but our dirt is all ready done
This is the place I call my mutherfuckin' home
Cuz I'm chillin' on 6th and Baronne

Chorus

I say boot up or shut up
Nigga get yo life lit up
Yeah yeah yeah wootay
I say boot up or shut up or
Get yo fuckin' life lit up
Yeah yeah yeah wootay

Third Verse
{Yella Boy}

Here come's an hard head rapper bout to crush yo phone
My name is Yella Boy no not Sylvester Stallion
Born and raised in third because that's my home
There's not another gangster set like 6th and Baronne
Because the bitches peepin' out seven days a week
I wait for the first and third to get paid ya see
My boys in rumors creepin' up but I just don't care
This is live or die sucker no not you thug there
I ride on other gangsters turf and need a gangsta's fit
Cash Money means ya got to stay legit
Throwin' paper in the air a quarter now an ounce
Then I call my dog bitch take her to Wall Street and make her bow
All the gangsters in the hood be up to no good
Pack the mutherfuckin' chrome smoke boo-koo weed now ya feel good
I'm down for a gangster strap can't you tell
I know a buildin' down with me of the Melph a Mene and Del a Rell
Tec-9, Lil' Ya me myself Yella Boy we all third ward soldiers
Not no child or little boys I'm makin' big bank and packin' the chrome
(Why) Because I'm a gangster from 6th and Baronne

Chorus

I say boot up or shut up
Nigga get yo life lit up
Yeah yeah yeah wootay
I say boot up or shut up or
Get yo fuckin' life lit up
Yeah yeah yeah wootay

Forth Verse
{Tec-9}

Growin' up was hard but it all paid off well
I was only eleven when I started to sell
6th and Baronne was the set that I sold rocks
Drinks done went crazy because I'm servin' the block
Now I'm on the run I guess I got to go
I slipped and sold to an undercover five-o
They say they got a reward if ya know where I'm at
But I'm gonna make it hard for 'em because I'm packin' a gat
Now I never was the type to run away from my home (why)
Because I'm a nigga from 6th and Baronne

Chorus

I say boot up or shut up
Nigga get yo life lit up
Yeah yeah yeah wootay
I say boot up or shut up or
Get yo fuckin' life lit up
Yeah yeah yeah wootay

Fifth Verse
{Lil' Ya}

I was chillin' on the corner strapped with the fuckin' chrome
Makin' boo-koo money on 6th and Baronne
All the junkies gather around and come see the man
I got big twenty flippers and za peter in my other hand
B 3 by my side he got dope to in a long fuckin' Lincoln
Yes he strapped with a twenty two
Tec is in the house chillin' with Moe
While Kerri on the floor doggin' doggin'
Doggin' a ho Chella's in the house chillin'
With Lamb while Ronda with Keisha
With them bitches they don't give a damn
Gettin' her haircut from Sue Tyra got a bitch
You know what to do Baby is on there other end
Stun'n on the pay phone and I'm chillin' on
6th and Baronne

Chorus

I say boot up or shut up
Nigga get yo life lit up
Yeah yeah yeah wootay
I say boot up or shut up or
Get yo fuckin' life lit up
Yeah yeah yeah wootay

Sixth Verse
{Yella Boy}

I got to watch my damn back
For the robbers and the gangsters
Like in the fuckin' pin I draw my knife
Then I shank ya because I know I got to handle that
Because some niggas try'na creep up bests believe I got my gat
You will never catch me slippin' cuz the leather keep flippin'
Try to play and my product man ya must be trippin'
Cuz a gangster out that third pushin' to much pain
Comin' weak that ho shit bitch you a rookie at the game
There's a dollar to made so best believe a playa call it
Disrespect my damn set watch yo back against the puppet
I'm takin' no shorts in the game of dope ya better come correct
Sucker cuz this shit ain't no joke that boo-koo money in land
I got to have it in my hand got to make a hundred gee's
Just to be then nigga again because I'm makin' big bank
and packin' the chrome (why Yella) because I'm a gangster
From 6th and Baronne

Chorus

I say boot up or shut up
Nigga get yo life lit up
Yeah yeah yeah wootay
I say boot up or shut up or
Get yo fuckin' life lit up
Yeah yeah yeah wootay

[INTRO]
My mama took me to Sam Goody's
I wanted to buy a 50 Cent CD
I took that shit home
That shit was wack like a motherfucker
Don't fuck with Game

I like 50 Cent
He reminds me Spongebob
And Tony Yayo is Blues Clues
And Lloyd Banks is Dora the Explorer
They're my friends
Psyche

I went down one of them Bodaga shits right there in Harlem
Got me a bootleg Lloyd Banks and Young Buck CD
Took that shit home, put it in my boom box
Thought I was 'bout to be on some radio Raheim shit
Man that shit sound like some Vanessa Williams '88
I mean Olivia cute but they say that bitch a man
So this Black Wallstreet for life now
GGG-UNOT!

[GAME]
300 Bars and Running
Just loan me your ears for 15 minutes
Walk with me

Here the breakdown, pass the doja, .45 in the holster
Hollow tips'll fold 'em, them niggaz they toy soldiers
Oh, that boy colder than Hova unless he sober
Like I'm the president, but this ain't the takeover
Now, there's the speaker, bring your ears a little closer
Before you call this a diss, and you make Hova pissed
Why would I wanna do that? When I'm just the new cat
That was taught if a nigga take shots to shoot back
Defending his yard, yeah, standing his ground
I'm saying if you gonna retire, then hand me the crown
Nah, let Bleek do it, then throw him a concert in Madison square
Watch everybody sleep through it
We can go bar for bar, I'll let the lines speak to 'em
What they say? Bleek is over let Chris and Neef do it
They say the wrong thing, I'ma smack 'em silly
What you thought? Them was the only niggaz that rapped in Philly?
See them niggaz with the soonies leave you wrapped in Philly
Then dash in groups like Beanie Mac in Philly
Compton camcorder said Curtis Jack in Philly
Make a U-turn, I gotta go back to Philly
I forgot my cheese steak, that's what I told the cops
So they wouldn't get the dogs start searching for the glock
And I can't forget, B.I.G. got murdered by the cops
Even I was Ready To Die, when I heard that he was shot
What's beef? Beef is when I murk you on the spot
Label's signing many things, still searching for they Pac
I put purple on the block
So I don't feel threatened when Ludacris say he coming for the #1 spot
Ask 50, it get lonely on top
You can hate me or love me, but now the cops the only homies he got
When it's beef we eat, we win, but we ain't lonely we pop
You sell records but a GGG-u not!
Acting big on the radio, to me you not
You can ask Mr. CCC who hot
Tony Yayo I bet 10 G's you flop
Run up on that new 300 C you got
Stop hoping I fall, hope the bleeding stop
And I hope you black out before you see the cops
I ain't hot top for colors, I'm from Cedar Block
So I got my hot tops that make your breathing stop
I'm a gangsta slash rapper, check your CD shop
I'm like Elvis in there, they can't believe you dropped
Now I'm moving on up to George and Weezy's spot
I picked up where my homeboy Eazy stopped
I saw the west coast, put the shit on my back
Sprayed Aftermath on it, then loosened the strap
It get hot in here, let Lucifer rap
Bring hell to niggaz when Dre producing a track
Take it to the streets, put the duece duece to your hat
Then call up the pigs, tell them the rooster's back
Call Jadakiss, tell him that duke is back
I'm still by your side, no matter who comes strapped
Fuck Lloyd Banks, it ain't about who can rap
It's about when the Ruger clap, is Rufus back?
I see what you thinking, you want me to die, is that so?
Now you left leaning back, thanks to Fat Joe
We got reservations in heaven, you ready? Let's go!
Drop them off, then the sound like Esko
I'm a say 'he hit me first' if me and Dre talk
All Nas said back was he had a ??
Now that's the eulogy, beef is kinda foolish see
Niggaz running their mouth about what the fuck they gon' do to me
But quit the yapping before I proceed to clapping
And you gon' see the captain with plans of getting me captured
Even behind bars, I'm still gon' shine
I'm 10 years younger than Yayo, I get out, I'm fine
Then I go right back, nigga I pop mines
How you gon' drop Olivia, you only drop dimes
I knew you changed, when you started sleeping in that vest dog
I don't need 50 Cent, my niggaz make collect calls
1-800-split a faggot nigga wig
He got G-Unit wings, throw them off the Queens Bridge
Now your career is over, career is over
We in QB, banging CNN in the rover
T-O-N-Y, that's Capone and NORE
You ain't the talk of New York, your sixteens is boring
Take that shit off nigga, go back to PC
And tell 50 Cent you want a copy of Beef 3
I'm airing their ass out on DVD
You wanna rhyme like Lloyd Banks repeat after me
I'm a G-Unit toy soldier
On Sesame street doing voice overs
Bitch ass nigga need a rhyme dictionary, to rehearse his lines
Sound like Oscar the Grouch, with them nursery rhymes
We was in the studio, when I first got signed
He got stuck, he called 50 tryna borrow some lines
That's the wrong nigga, when you need help with your rhymes
All he gon' tell you is say G-Unit one more time
Got mad 'cause I ain't wanna make your beef mine
You got lucky with Ja, why you ain't go at Shyne?
He freestyled from the pen, that's just the fact
Said he'd put you with your mom, and you ain't fucked with that
Then you lied about your pops, he ain't never bust no cap
Like Father, Like Son, go ask Busta that
I knew from the beginning I couldn't trust those cats
I'd kill 'em all, if I could bring Justo back
The underground is mine, I treat it like home
It's the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike Jones
The underground is mine, I treat it like home
It's the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike Jones
The underground is mine, I treat it like home
It's the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike Jones
I said
The underground is mine, I treat it like home
It's the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike Jones
And I'm far from Houston but you can chop it and screw it
Do whatever to it, but it in the store the shit moving
Gave 'em a hundred bars, they ain't think I could do it
Came with two hundred, nigga this is more than music
Even Dre knew it, that boy hot like summer
Both feet in the dirt, 300 Bars and Running
And I beef with any nigga, say my name muthafuck I'm gunnin'
You can put it on skee if you want it
I'll air you out on Drama King, Mike, or Clue
And watch them shits sell out like a Air Jordon shoe
I told Funk Flex when I catch the nigga Whoo Kid
We gon' see if he know how to DJ with bruised ribs
Don't hit me on the sidekick asking what you did
Get a gun or ask 50's police to use his
'Cause Bloods gonna get ya
Bloods, Bloods gonna get ya for that Shadyville chain
That 380 spill brains, when I pop shots
Outside NY, in front of hip-hop cops
Or broad day in L.A., I'ma tell Em and Dre
This nigga bootlegging my music, ain't nothing for him to say
Took me off my own songs, then put it on his tapes
So I'ma take him out his house, put the beam on his face
Drop him off at Terror Squad, let him scream for the jakes
'Cause when you fucking with Jayceon, you can bleed in the lake
For caking off niggaz on them CD's and tapes
Ask them to scratch a record, you will see he fake
If 50 was Puffy, you'd run and go get him a cheese cake
Take the DJ off your name, Mr. Instant replay
Not the instant replay
I mean the machine that G-Unit use every time 50 on stage singing like
Bitches only for your shit just a lil bit
niggaz only for your shit just a lil bit
On my album 50 helped me just a lil bit
Only on two songs, now back to some killer shit
My clips bananas, I kill a gorilla quick
Beating on your chest, I see to your death, yep
Tell Ecko to make him a suit
Tell Reebok to make him some boots
Get him a head band, to cover the holes in his head
He a dead man for thinking he can walk through muddy waters like Redman
Banks blacked out and let the gun blam without a M-E-T-H-O-D Man
So the lieutenant gotta ask for his strings
Take my advice, never wear air max for the game
Unless you one of the Bloods, or a Latin king
'Cause if your left with the Aryans your ass will sting
And your cell mate is a 25 to lifer
They will stab you in Folsom then fuck you on Rikers
And Life Goes On
Now back to the coward of the hour who lied and said he write my songs
He told Vibe Dre was gonna leave me on the shelf
So he gave me all his hits, you should've kept them for yourself
nigga stop acting tough before I stand over you
Show you how The Documentary live on top of The Massacre
Make a move I'm blasting your ass to the last one
Ten shots from the Mack empty the rest in the passenger
Fase yelling that's enough, let the coroner bag him up
Throw in Makaveli and lift the doors on the Maganum
Gun smoking, Fase think I'm locin' backing up
Reverse the '05 hearse on 41st and traffic, what
Hip-Hop cops on my left, but I pass 'em up
The Dodge got a hemmy in it, Game got a Remy in 'em
In and out of lanes like a New York cab
I miss the Old King, that New York had
Who's this fake nigga, on pictures with the Jake nigga?
Got his crew starving 'cause he ain't the whole cake, nigga
He ain't Nas, ain't B.I.G., ain't Jigga
If he ain't Cube or Pac then who you got?
We getting tired of you talking about who you shot
I'll use another six bars to tell you who you not
You ain't 50 Cent, he went out like a gangsta
You went out with Vivica, three months after wanksta
Get Rich or Die Trying, we thought you was hot
Now the same nigga wanna take us to the Candy Shop
C'mon man, what happened to the thug?
Now you could find in the club, him and Lloyd Banks hugging
nigga got mad when The Game start buzzing
So fuck making friends now I'm into throwing slugs
Olivia talking about we a family, Game had to go
nigga I'll smack that ho like I'm Jackie-O
'Cause I don't wanna be cool, I don't wanna be you
I don't wanna shake hands, or wear your G-Unit shoes
Don't want you on my hooks, don't wanna be in your group
Just wanna sit here and wait
To be gone, so I can head back to the block
Fresh white Nike airs and the matching socks fitted

Pull the brim low, if they don't get it
Bentley Coup on gold daytons, I was the first one with it
Four times platinum, I done been there and did it
Came in the game and shitted, then wiped my ass with it
They say the Lord Givth, if Lord take it away
So I build a house on top of Hip-Hop, I'll wait for the day
niggaz hating on me, they don't want Jayceon to play
And the DA waiting on Jayceon to make a mistake
So they can put me in the SWAT car and lock me away
Give me a odd job in the pen for minimum pay
Let me out so I can drive down criminal way
Pushing the rock, nah this ain't no subliminal Jay
The summer too hot, and I want the winter to stay
'Cause I'm a cold nigga when I put the pen to the page
Similar to them shells going into my gauge
I hand 'em off to Dre, he turned them into grenades
And Just Blaze, 'cause the boy got game
Like I close my eyes, and woke up in a Roc chain
Now back to reality, my gun and my vest
And if diamonds are forever, then I'm Kanye West
Take a look at my chest, a hundred thou wet Jacob
Whole crew got chains, a hundred thou can't break 'em
And the flow is hot like that wit Satan
And the only thing I got spinning is Daytons
The hotter I get the more willing to snake 'em
So soon as the beat drop, watch where I take 'em
Compton Swap meet, to get me some All-Stars
When Game in the house, they they calling all cars
'Cause they heard about what went on in D.C.
Heard about Hot 97, my beef with 50

Now tell me do he got a conscience?
I think not, 'cause if he did I wouldn't be involved in this nonsense
Wouldn't be in Harlem, wouldn't be at this conference
I'd rather be pushing rock, like ??
50 whispered in my ear, like we still bonding
We ain't friends, I'm just acting like Charles Bronson
Middle finger in the air, one hand on my Johnson
Hip-Hop police on me like I'm the convict
What happened to the old school? I thought it was rhyming
Doug E. Fresh and Dana Day on the corner like Common
Now that ain't common, it's more like Top Ramen
The flow is noodles, I throw it up like vomit
And I still shine like diamonds
They kicked me out of G-Unit and I rebounded like Rodman
It's still Aftermath, two feet in the paint, shit
I be mad, I ain't, I'm supposed to stop I can't because
I'm in the hood politican, Impala liftin'
And I keep a black .45 on the side of my prada denim
Chip on my shoulder like I'm fresh outta prison
Dollar vision, blow a hundred thou like my wallet missing
Then re-up like Kim before the d-cup
Continuously getting money with my feet up
Chasing the throne, here my black Air Force
I said fuck Benzino and got the cover of The Source
Feel me? If not then I guess you gotta kill me
But you ain't gon' do that so muthafucka move back
While I do B.I.G. and 'Pac impersonations on two tracks
When I wake the dead, everybody remove hats
We miss ya'll, can I get a hand clap?
Now back to rap, why I gotta stay strapped?
On that murder T-I-P, kill you ASAP
They won't know which hole to patch up, when the 'K' clap
I tried to spare you Young Buck, now it's time for payback
It go, how you from Cashville but you ain't got no cash nigga?
Say my name now that's your fucking ass nigga
Kept your mouth shut and I gave you a pass nigga
Now I gotta lay you down like the last nigga
Buck, buck, buck from my AK-47
This nigga playing with his life, I might have to put him in heaven
Tryna play the game, talking shit up on the stereo
Prepare for burial, it's when I'm reincarnating Harry-O
And you don't want that David 'cause you love your life
Get my Vibe, when it's war he pull out butter knifes
Motherfucker I'ma show you who the gangsta
All you do is Murder Inc., now who the wanksta?
When Suge had you, you were stranded on Tha Row
Juve left you for dead and went back to the NO
50 heard you on the tour bus and felt your little flow
Then he made you temporary replacement for Yayo
You a bitch, and that's hard to swallow
And you got robbed for your spinning G-Unit chain in Chicago
I call my nigga Jojo to get it back
He had the shit in his hands, and you ain't had the ten stacks
Picture that, I thought we was G-Unit
Then you ran and told 50 that I did that shit
Ask C-Murder, the boy ain't hard to find
I told Monica when I catch him The Boy is Mine
Take one shot of Brandy and pop
Watch his panties drop, when I run inside the Candy Shop
Fuck you, 50, Banks, Yayo, and the cops
And Olivia, I mean for a man she hot
Now I'm running out of breath, like I just beat boxed
Got 20 bars to go, lay it down like sheet rock
Don't worry about the flow, the boy know he hot
Hurricanes in store November, nigga fuck Reeboks
I'm fly like a Hummingbird on a tree top
The new Hov, the new B.I.G., the new 'Pac, I need three spots
280 in, ain't no getting me back
I'm yelling fuck the world, on my victory lap
Remember first it was Buddens, then it was Bleek
Now it's whoever motherfucker, yeah, who want beef?
Now whenever motherfucker, who wanna see me?
In the coffin, body exhausted, resting in peace
You don't want war nigga, you want peace
So give 'em the peace, capiche (sp?)
Let 'em rest in peace
From west to east the flow is outdatable, irreplaceable
Lyrical homicide, hell is hot, I'm boxing with Satan
And I slipped 'em the ace, you cannot replace 'em
If Eazy ever decide to return, I remain Jayceon
A king in the making, and the throne is for the taking
So I climb the mountain top and put my stake in
Got the weight of the world on my shoulder
Not a nigga nor a hood rat bitch can stop me from taking it over
This is crack music, go get the baking soda
300 Bars and Running, nigga the wait is over
I'm gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone

[INTRO]
My mama took me to Sam Goody's
I wanted to buy a 50 Cent CD
I took that shit home
That shit was wack like a motherfucker
Don't fuck with Game

I like 50 Cent
He reminds me Spongebob
And Tony Yayo is Blues Clues
And Lloyd Banks is Dora the Explorer
They're my friends
Psyche

I went down one of them Bodaga shits right there in Harlem
Got me a bootleg Lloyd Banks and Young Buck CD
Took that shit home, put it in my boom box
Thought I was 'bout to be on some radio Raheim shit
Man that shit sound like some Vanessa Williams '88
I mean Olivia cute but they say that bitch a man
So this Black Wallstreet for life now
GGG-UNOT!

[GAME]
300 Bars and Running
Just loan me your ears for 15 minutes
Walk with me

Here the breakdown, pass the doja, .45 in the holster
Hollow tips'll fold 'em, them niggaz they toy soldiers
Oh, that boy colder than Hova unless he sober
Like I'm the president, but this ain't the takeover
Now, there's the speaker, bring your ears a little closer
Before you call this a diss, and you make Hova pissed
Why would I wanna do that? When I'm just the new cat
That was taught if a nigga take shots to shoot back
Defending his yard, yeah, standing his ground
I'm saying if you gonna retire, then hand me the crown
Nah, let Bleek do it, then throw him a concert in Madison square
Watch everybody sleep through it
We can go bar for bar, I'll let the lines speak to 'em
What they say? Bleek is over let Chris and Neef do it
They say the wrong thing, I'ma smack 'em silly
What you thought? Them was the only niggaz that rapped in Philly?
See them niggaz with the soonies leave you wrapped in Philly
Then dash in groups like Beanie Mac in Philly
Compton camcorder said Curtis Jack in Philly
Make a U-turn, I gotta go back to Philly
I forgot my cheese steak, that's what I told the cops
So they wouldn't get the dogs start searching for the glock
And I can't forget, B.I.G. got murdered by the cops
Even I was Ready To Die, when I heard that he was shot
What's beef? Beef is when I murk you on the spot
Label's signing many things, still searching for they Pac
I put purple on the block
So I don't feel threatened when Ludacris say he coming for the #1 spot
Ask 50, it get lonely on top
You can hate me or love me, but now the cops the only homies he got
When it's beef we eat, we win, but we ain't lonely we pop
You sell records but a GGG-u not!
Acting big on the radio, to me you not
You can ask Mr. CCC who hot
Tony Yayo I bet 10 G's you flop
Run up on that new 300 C you got
Stop hoping I fall, hope the bleeding stop
And I hope you black out before you see the cops
I ain't hot top for colors, I'm from Cedar Block
So I got my hot tops that make your breathing stop
I'm a gangsta slash rapper, check your CD shop
I'm like Elvis in there, they can't believe you dropped
Now I'm moving on up to George and Weezy's spot
I picked up where my homeboy Eazy stopped
I saw the west coast, put the shit on my back
Sprayed Aftermath on it, then loosened the strap
It get hot in here, let Lucifer rap
Bring hell to niggaz when Dre producing a track
Take it to the streets, put the duece duece to your hat
Then call up the pigs, tell them the rooster's back
Call Jadakiss, tell him that duke is back
I'm still by your side, no matter who comes strapped
Fuck Lloyd Banks, it ain't about who can rap
It's about when the Ruger clap, is Rufus back?
I see what you thinking, you want me to die, is that so?
Now you left leaning back, thanks to Fat Joe
We got reservations in heaven, you ready? Let's go!
Drop them off, then the sound like Esko
I'm a say 'he hit me first' if me and Dre talk
All Nas said back was he had a great thought
Now that's the eulogy, beef is kinda foolish see
Niggaz running their mouth about what the fuck they gon' do to me
But quit the yapping before I proceed to clapping
And you gon' see the captain with plans of getting me captured
Even behind bars, I'm still gon' shine
I'm 10 years younger than Yayo, I get out, I'm fine
Then I go right back, nigga I pop mines
How you gon' drop Olivia, you only drop dimes
I knew you changed, when you started sleeping in that vest dog
I don't need 50 Cent, my niggaz make collect calls
1-800-split a faggot nigga wig
He got G-Unit wings, throw them off the Queens Bridge
Now your career is over, career is over
We in QB, banging CNN in the rover
T-O-N-Y, that's Capone and NORE
You ain't the talk of New York, your sixteens is boring
Take that shit off nigga, go back to PC
And tell 50 Cent you want a copy of Beef 3
I'm airing their ass out on DVD
You wanna rhyme like Lloyd Banks repeat after me
I'm a G-Unit toy soldier
On Sesame street doing voice overs
Bitch ass nigga need a rhyme dictionary, to rehearse his lines
Sound like Oscar the Grouch, with them nursery rhymes
We was in the studio, when I first got signed
He got stuck, he called 50 tryna borrow some lines
That's the wrong nigga, when you need help with your rhymes
All he gon' tell you is say G-Unit one more time
Got mad 'cause I ain't wanna make your beef mine
You got lucky with Ja, why you ain't go at Shyne?
He freestyled from the pen, that's just the fact
Said he'd put you with your mom, and you ain't fucked with that
Then you lied about your pops, he ain't never bust no cap
Like Father, Like Son, go ask Busta that
I knew from the beginning I couldn't trust those cats
I'd kill 'em all, if I could bring Justo back
The underground is mine, I treat it like home
It's the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike Jones
The underground is mine, I treat it like home
It's the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike Jones
The underground is mine, I treat it like home
It's the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike Jones
I said
The underground is mine, I treat it like home
It's the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike Jones
And I'm far from Houston but you can chop it and screw it
Do whatever to it, but it in the store the shit moving
Gave 'em a hundred bars, they ain't think I could do it
Came with two hundred, nigga this is more than music
Even Dre knew it, that boy hot like summer
Both feet in the dirt, 300 Bars and Running
And I beef with any nigga, say my name muthafuck I'm gunnin'
You can put it on skee if you want it
I'll air you out on Drama King, Mike, or Clue
And watch them shits sell out like a Air Jordon shoe
I told Funk Flex when I catch the nigga Whoo Kid
We gon' see if he know how to DJ with bruised ribs
Don't hit me on the sidekick asking what you did
Get a gun or ask 50's police to use his
'Cause Bloods gonna get ya
Bloods, Bloods gonna get ya for that Shadyville chain
That 380 spill brains, when I pop shots
Outside NY, in front of hip-hop cops
Or broad day in L.A., I'ma tell Em and Dre
This nigga bootlegging my music, ain't nothing for him to say
Took me off my own songs, then put it on his tapes
So I'ma take him out his house, put the beam on his face
Drop him off at Terror Squad, let him scream for the jakes
'Cause when you fucking with Jayceon, you can bleed in the lake
For caking off niggaz on them CD's and tapes
Ask them to scratch a record, you will see he fake
If 50 was Puffy, you'd run and go get him a cheese cake
Take the DJ off your name, Mr. Instant replay
Not the instant replay
I mean the machine that G-Unit use every time 50 on stage singing like
Bitches only for your shit just a lil bit
niggaz only for your shit just a lil bit
On my album 50 helped me just a lil bit
Only on two songs, now back to some killer shit
My clips bananas, I kill a gorilla quick
Beating on your chest, I see to your death, yep
Tell Ecko to make him a suit
Tell Reebok to make him some boots
Get him a head band, to cover the holes in his head
He a dead man for thinking he can walk through muddy waters like Redman
Banks blacked out and let the gun blam without a M-E-T-H-O-D Man
So the lieutenant gotta ask for his strings
Take my advice, never wear air max for the game
Unless you one of the Bloods, or a Latin king
'Cause if your left with the Aryans your ass will sting
And your cell mate is a 25 to lifer
They will stab you in Folsom then fuck you on Rikers
And Life Goes On
Now back to the coward of the hour who lied and said he write my songs
He told Vibe Dre was gonna leave me on the shelf
So he gave me all his hits, you should've kept them for yourself
nigga stop acting tough before I stand over you
Show you how The Documentary live on top of The Massacre
Make a move I'm blasting your ass to the last one
Ten shots from the Mack empty the rest in the passenger
Fase yelling that's enough, let the coroner bag him up
Throw in Makaveli and lift the doors on the Maganum
Gun smoking, Fase think I'm locin' backing up
Reverse the '05 hearse on 41st and traffic, what
Hip-Hop cops on my left, but I pass 'em up
The Dodge got a hemmy in it, Game got a Remy in 'em
In and out of lanes like a New York cab
I miss the Old King, that New York had
Who's this fake nigga, on pictures with the Jake nigga?
Got his crew starving 'cause he ain't the whole cake, nigga
He ain't Nas, ain't B.I.G., ain't Jigga
If he ain't Cube or Pac then who you got?
We getting tired of you talking about who you shot
I'll use another six bars to tell you who you not
You ain't 50 Cent, he went out like a gangsta
You went out with Vivica, three months after wanksta
Get Rich or Die Trying, we thought you was hot
Now the same nigga wanna take us to the Candy Shop
C'mon man, what happened to the thug?
Now you could find in the club, him and Lloyd Banks hugging
nigga got mad when The Game start buzzing
So fuck making friends now I'm into throwing slugs
Olivia talking about we a family, Game had to go
nigga I'll smack that ho like I'm Jackie-O
'Cause I don't wanna be cool, I don't wanna be you
I don't wanna shake hands, or wear your G-Unit shoes
Don't want you on my hooks, don't wanna be in your group
Just wanna sit here and wait
To be gone, so I can head back to the block
Fresh white Nike airs and the matching socks fitted

Pull the brim low, if they don't get it
Bentley Coup on gold daytons, I was the first one with it
Four times platinum, I done been there and did it
Came in the game and shitted, then wiped my ass with it
They say the Lord Givth, if Lord take it away
So I build a house on top of Hip-Hop, I'll wait for the day
niggaz hating on me, they don't want Jayceon to play
And the DA waiting on Jayceon to make a mistake
So they can put me in the SWAT car and lock me away
Give me a odd job in the pen for minimum pay
Let me out so I can drive down criminal way
Pushing the rock, nah this ain't no subliminal Jay
The summer too hot, and I want the winter to stay
'Cause I'm a cold nigga when I put the pen to the page
Similar to them shells going into my gauge
I hand 'em off to Dre, he turned them into grenades
And Just Blaze, 'cause the boy got game
Like I close my eyes, and woke up in a Roc chain
Now back to reality, my gun and my vest
And if diamonds are forever, then I'm Kanye West
Take a look at my chest, a hundred thou wet Jacob
Whole crew got chains, a hundred thou can't break 'em
And the flow is hot like that wit Satan
And the only thing I got spinning is Daytons
The hotter I get the more willing to snake 'em
So soon as the beat drop, watch where I take 'em
Compton Swap meet, to get me some All-Stars
When Game in the house, they they calling all cars
'Cause they heard about what went on in D.C.
Heard about Hot 97, my beef with 50

Now tell me do he got a conscience?
I think not, 'cause if he did I wouldn't be involved in this nonsense
Wouldn't be in Harlem, wouldn't be at this conference
I'd rather be pushing rock, like ??
50 whispered in my ear, like we still bonding
We ain't friends, I'm just acting like Charles Bronson
Middle finger in the air, one hand on my Johnson
Hip-Hop police on me like I'm the convict
What happened to the old school? I thought it was rhyming
Doug E. Fresh and Dana Day on the corner like Common
Now that ain't common, it's more like Top Ramen
The flow is noodles, I throw it up like vomit
And I still shine like diamonds
They kicked me out of G-Unit and I rebounded like Rodman
It's still Aftermath, two feet in the paint, shit
I be mad, I ain't, I'm supposed to stop I can't because
I'm in the hood politican, Impala liftin'
And I keep a black .45 on the side of my prada denim
Chip on my shoulder like I'm fresh outta prison
Dollar vision, blow a hundred thou like my wallet missing
Then re-up like Kim before the d-cup
Continuously getting money with my feet up
Chasing the throne, here my black Air Force
I said fuck Benzino and got the cover of The Source
Feel me? If not then I guess you gotta kill me
But you ain't gon' do that so muthafucka move back
While I do B.I.G. and 'Pac impersonations on two tracks
When I wake the dead, everybody remove hats
We miss ya'll, can I get a hand clap?
Now back to rap, why I gotta stay strapped?
On that murder T-I-P, kill you ASAP
They won't know which hole to patch up, when the 'K' clap
I tried to spare you Young Buck, now it's time for payback
It go, how you from Cashville but you ain't got no cash nigga?
Say my name now that's your fucking ass nigga
Kept your mouth shut and I gave you a pass nigga
Now I gotta lay you down like the last nigga
Buck, buck, buck from my AK-47
This nigga playing with his life, I might have to put him in heaven
Tryna play the game, talking shit up on the stereo
Prepare for burial, it's when I'm reincarnating Harry-O
And you don't want that David 'cause you love your life
Get my Vibe, when it's war he pull out butter knifes
Motherfucker I'ma show you who the gangsta
All you do is Murder Inc., now who the wanksta?
When Suge had you, you were stranded on Tha Row
Juve left you for dead and went back to the NO
50 heard you on the tour bus and felt your little flow
Then he made you temporary replacement for Banks and for Yayo
You a bitch, you a bitch , and that's hard to swallow
And you got robbed for your spinning G-Unit chain in Chicago
I call my nigga Jojo to get it back
He had the shit in his hands, and you ain't had the ten stacks
Picture that, I thought we was G-Unit
Then you ran and told 50 that I did that shit
Ask C-Murder, the boy ain't hard to find
I told Monica when I catch him The Boy is Mine
Take one shot of Brandy and pop
Watch his panties drop, when I run inside the Candy Shop
Fuck you, 50, Banks, Yayo, and the cops
And Olivia, I mean for a man she hot
Now I'm running out of breath, like I just beat boxed
Got 20 bars to go, lay it down like sheet rock
Don't worry about the flow, the boy know he hot
Hurricanes in store November, nigga fuck Reeboks
I'm fly like a Hummingbird on a tree top
The new Hov, the new B.I.G., the new 'Pac, I need three spots
280 in, ain't no getting me back
I'm yelling fuck the world, on my victory lap
Remember first it was Buddens, then it was Bleek
Now it's whoever motherfucker, yeah, who want beef?
Now whenever motherfucker, who wanna see me?
In the coffin, body exhausted, resting in peace
You don't want war nigga, you want peace
So give 'em the peace, capiche (sp?)
Let 'em rest in peace
From west to east the flow is outdatable, irreplaceable
Lyrical homicide, hell is hot, I'm boxing with Satan
And I slipped 'em the ace, you cannot replace 'em
If Eazy ever decide to return, I remain Jayceon
A king in the making, and the throne is for the taking
So I climb the mountain top and put my stake in
Got the weight of the world on my shoulder
Not a nigga nor a hood rat bitch can stop me from taking it over
This is crack music, go get the baking soda
300 Bars and Running, nigga the wait is over
I'm gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone

When I hold you in my arms
it's a breath of fresh air
when I hold you in my arms
I forget what's out there
All those people with their faces
walkin' up the street
They don't have to say a thing
just look around and you see
New buildings going up,
old buildings coming down
New signs going up,
old signs coming down
You gotta hold onto something in this life
Well the older generation
they got something to say
But they better say it fast
or get outta the way
All those gangsters with their crimes
they make it look so good
We'll be blowing up the planet
just like the old neighbourhood
New buildings going up,
old buildings coming down
New signs going up,
old signs coming down
You gotta hold onto something in this life
If I only had a heart
it would beat all night for you
If I only had a heart
I would cry the whole day through
When I hold you in my arms
it's like a breath of fresh air
when I hold you in my arms
I forget what's out there
My feelings going up,
my feelings coming down
Old heart going up,
old heart coming down
You gotta hold onto someone in this life
When I hold you in my arms
it's a breath of fresh air
When I hold you in my arms
I forget whats out there

When I hold you in my arms
it's a breath of fresh air,
when I hold you in my arms
I forget what's out there,
All those people with their faces
walkin' up the street,
They don't have to say a thing
just look around and you see.

New buildings going up,
old buildings coming down,
New signs going up,
old signs coming down,
You gotta hold onto something in this life.

Well the older generation
they got something to say,
But they better say it fast
or get outta the way.
All those gangsters with their crimes
they make it look so good,
We've been blowing up the planet
just like the old neighbourhood.

New buildings going up,
old buildings coming down,
New signs going up,
old signs coming down,
You gotta hold onto something in this life.

If I only had a heart
it would beat all night for you,
If I only had a heart
I would cry the whole day through,
When I hold you in my arms
it's like a breath of fresh air,
when I hold you in my arms
I forget what's out there.

Old heart's going up,
old heart's coming down,
My feelings going up,
my feelings coming down,
You gotta hold onto someone in this life.

When I hold you in my arms
it's a breath of fresh air.
When I hold you in my arms
I forget what's out there.

Breathe lyrics

WOO!
WOO!
WOO!
BREATHE!

[Bridge]
One and then the two
Two and then the three
Three and then the four
Then you gotta BREATHE
One and then the two
Two and then the three
Three and then the four
Then you gotta BREATHE
Then you gotta (gasp)
Then you gotta (gasp)

[Hook I]
Yo these niggaz can't breathe when I come through, hum too
Some shoes, gotta be 20 man
It's not even funny they can't BREATHE
The choke holds too tight
The left looks too right
You know what? You right
These bitches can't BREATHE

[Hook II]
Look look, they hearts racin'
They start chasin'
But I'm so fast when I blow past
That they can't BREATHE
In the presence of the man
Your future looks better than ya past if you present with the man
You betta BREATHE

You niggaz can't share my air
Or walk a mile in the pair I wear
And I'm gettin better year by year
Like they say Wine do
Cops couldn't smell me if you brought the canines through
And I pace myself
I know these money hungry bitches wanna taste my wealth
But I keep em' on a diet
Embrace they health
Or either keep em' on a quiet
And space myself
And just take a deep breath
I got em' grabbin' they chest
Cuz it's hurtin' em' to see Fab in his best
And they in they worst
They rather see me lay in the hearse than lay in the back
And I ain't just layin a verse
I'm sayin the facts
I came back with some sicka stones
That got these broke niggaz lookin at me like they chokin' on a chicken bone
Every chick I bone
Can't leave the dick alone
So I know
It's one of them everytime I flip my phone

[BRIDGE]

[HOOK I]

[HOOK II]

I see em on the block when I passes
Lookin like they need oxygen mask-es
I make it hard to BREATHE
But I keep the glocks in the stashes
Cuz the cops wanna lock and harass us
And make it hard to BREATHE
They has to react
Like havin' a asthma attack
When they see the plasma in back
You dudes are wheezin' behind me
My flow is like a coupe, breezin at 90
That's the reason they signed me
It's quick metaphors and hard punches on the cuts
Feels somethin' like hard punches to the gut
How I address the haters and under estimaters
And ride up on them like they escalators
They shook up and hooked up to respirators
On they last breath talking to investigators
I'm a breath of fresh air
And a fresh pair
Face it boo and do it till your face get blue
And then BREATHE

[BRIDGE]

[HOOK I]

[HOOK II]

When the crew walk in it
Pop a few corks in it
As quick as a tick in a New York minute
Catch a breath, fore u catch a left
Even worse, catch a Tef
Only way u catch a F
To the A-B, its in the maybe
Rollin with my baby
Grippin on a toy that you won't find in +KayBee+
I rhyme slick on ya
I'm a have to put the Heimlich on ya
What you know bout lettin' dimes lick on ya?
While you inhale the weed
And it won't stop till they inhale ya seed
And it don't stop I tell em' to breathe
Like a doctor with a stethoscope
I don't see no fuckin hope
Unless these motherfuckers BREATHE

Yeah, Brooklyn gotta
Uptown gotta
the Bronx gotta
Queens gotta
Staten Isle gotta
You niggas gotta
You bitches gotta
Everybody BREATHE

One and then the two
Two and then the three
Three and then the four
Then you gotta.. BREATHE
Then you gotta..
Then you gotta..
BREATHE
Oh* BREATHE
BREATHE
Oh* BREATHE
BREATHE
BREATHE
Oh* BREATHE
BREATHE

Performed by Adam Sandler and Kevin

Transcribed by Big Brother.

[typing sounds]
Dr. Stewart: Hi, [I'm] Dr. Stewart.
Gary Phelps: Hi, Dr. Stewart. Nice to meet you -- I'm Gary Phelps.
Dr. Stewart: My pleasure. Gary, have you ever been hypnotized before?
Gary Phelps: No, I haven't. I'm actually quite nervous, but I just, uh, I --
Dr. Stewart: All right, and you were referred to me by anyone...?
Gary Phelps: To be honest with you, I saw your name in the Yellow Pages, and It said you're good at this stuff, so I just, I gotta give it a shot, just kick this whole cigarette thing...
Dr. Stewart: So smoking is your problem?
Gary Phelps: Yeah, I can't stop smoking and it's -- it's finally, like, affecting everything I do, I can't run, I can't play basketball and all that stuff like that, so I, I gotta give it up.
Dr. Stewart: How long have you smoked, Gary?
Gary Phelps: Uh, I started when I was eleven years old, and I just can't kick it, you know?


Dr. Stewart: Yeah, right. [small, barely noticeable fart] All right, Gary, why don't you just have a seat here and sit down and just relax -- what I do is hypnosis.
Gary Phelps: Right.
Dr. Stewart: Basically I just want you to sit back and relax -- let yourself sit back and relax and sink into the chair, and , um, just feel comfortable and trust me.

[bigger fart]
Gary Phelps: [noticing fart sound] Uh...
Dr. Stewart: That's it.
Gary Phelps: O-kay....
Dr. Stewart: That's it.
Gary Phelps: That was...o-kay...
Dr. Stewart: All right? Okay. Gary, I want you to close your eyes, and I just want you to again relax and try to concentrate on nothing. Okay? That's it. Now I'm gonna count backwards from five to zero --
Gary Phelps: Right.
Dr. Stewart: -- and I just want you to relax, and you're going to fall into a deep state of mind -- of subconsciousness -- you're very comfortable, I'll be counting back from five, I just want you to relax, and just think of nothing.
[three farts in succession]
Gary Phelps: Are you gonna keep doing that, or...?
Dr. Stewart: Hmm? Just concentrate now. That's it. Close your eyes. Keep your eyes closed. Okay. Now. We're very comfortable. Five [small fart], we're thinking of nothing except being comfortable and nothing's bothering us. Okay. When I say the word "relax," listen to me, you're sinking, you're sinking, [medium fart]
Gary Phelps: Oh my god...that was, uh....are you gonna keep doing that?
Dr. Stewart: Please just try to relax; that wasn't me. Okay. You're very stressed -- you're very stressed. Okay, four, we're relaxing, we're relaxing, you're very comfortable, you're very, very soothed. Okay. Four, three...[fart]
Gary Phelps: Oh my dear god, sir...uh, I can't...
Dr. Stewart: That was the couch. I know it sounded like -- it's -- the vinyl -- it's a new couch -- please, just try and concentrate. Okay. And we're very sleepy, we're relaxed, thinking nothing bothers us, nothing bothers us -- [several farts]
Gary Phelps: Uh, um, all right, could you open a window, maybe? I'm just having a tough time concentrating --
Dr. Stewart: Hmm? Here we go -- there, there, we're relaxing, we're relaxing [fart and cough together] three, two, two --
Gary Phelps: I was just going to ask you if you could maybe stop doing that. I can't concentrate when you're doing that.
Dr. Stewart: This is what I do. It's a counting-down thing. We're relaxing now. Just relax -- let it go, don't focus on anything else, just concentrate on what we're doing here. Three, two, relax, relax, that's it, just relax [fart], we're relaxing now --
Gary Phelps: Okay -- you're gonna -- that one was -- it's getting a little irritating --
Dr. Stewart: Hang on just a second here. Let me just step out a second here.
Gary Phelps: That'd be good.
Dr. Stewart: All right, and we're relaxing, as I leave, we're relaxing, still relaxing,
[fart in the distance]
Gary Phelps: Jesus...Oh my God.
Dr. Stewart: We're relaxing.
Gary Phelps: [trying hard not to laugh]
Dr. Stewart: Okay, I'm back, we're relaxing, and we're counting down, we're to two, and all we're thinking about is healthy, fresh air. Freshness. Breathing in. Breathing in deep, letting out. [fart]
Gary Phelps: Sir, I'd appreciate if you could stop 'letting it out'. But okay, okay, fine, thank you.
Dr. Stewart: That's it, you're all right, everything's good. All right, you feel very comfortable, you're sinking into the chair, we're relaxing, one [long fart], and we're coming down to zero and --
Gary Phelps: Oh my god, uh...yes, all right, it was nothing...
Dr. Stewart: No, no, that time that was you.
Gary Phelps: That wasn't me!

Dr. Stewart: We're not here to pick sides, we're not here to pick sides, that was you, and maybe we could deal with this in another session, but right now we're dealing with the smoking, and, um, let's not worry about anything else that's going down --
Gary Phelps: OK, I've just gotta kick this habit.
Dr. Stewart: Down to zero, relaxing, we're going to feel very fresh [fart], we're going to feel very healthy [fart], and let's take a nice, deep breath --
Gary Phelps: I can't breathe, sir, uh, I'm sorry, I just -- ["squirty" fart]
Gary Phelps: Oh my god -- what did you eat? It smells like baby food --

Dr. Stewart: All right, we're relaxing -- that one probably squirted out a little into the pants, but we'll just continue with thte floating [fart] -- yeah, that was definitely a squirt -- but here we go, one, zero, we are under. Are you relaxed?
Gary Phelps: Yeah, I'm under, I guess.
Dr. Stewart: Here we go, relaxing, relaxing. You're under a deep trance, you will not smoke anymore, you will just feel healthy from now on, and you'll be breathing in nothing but fresh air, and you will not smell anything in this room, it wasn't me, it wasn't me farting [fart] -- that was not me --
Gary Phelps: [hysterically laughing under his breath] You're gonna have to stop doing that, sir. It's just very hard for me to listen to you when you're --
Dr. Stewart: You're floating now, you're high above, you're looking down, nothing but fresh pastures and fields, and here we go [long fart]
Gary Phelps: Oh man...
Dr. Stewart: -- that was you,
Gary Phelps: That was not me, sir! I'm watching you!
Dr. Stewart: That was you, and when you wake up, you will not remember any of this, except that it was you, or my receptionist, don't worry, she gets it all the time. All right -- you smell nothing; I'm perfectly clean. I have no bad gas; it was all from outside or from -- from -- you yourself. And let's not forget the smoking thing that's why you're here. No smoking. Repeat after me: I am a smelly pig.
Gary Phelps: What?
Dr. Stewart: All right, we're moving along, and we;'re relaxed. [fart] All right, and now we're going to count back up, up one to five,
Gary Phelps: OK, you know, I think this is fine, I don't want to smoke...
Dr. Stewart: Gary, settle down, relax, and when I get to five, you will snap out of this, and you won't remember this, especially the smell, the smell was from you. All right? And here we go. Zero, we're coming out of it, you're waking up slowly, your eyes are opening, one, you're feeling good, and when you wake up, you'll feel wide awake and perfect you'll feel whole and [fart] all-righty, I ripped that one out there and I apologize. I ripped a good one there. That was a nice out..
Gary Phelps: That was not nice.
Dr. Stewart: Here we go, and, we're coming right [fart]
Gary Phelps: What was that?
Dr. Stewart: That was three.
Gary Phelps: It didn't sound like three.
Dr. Stewart: three, I'm counting, and four, it's no smell in here, and you don't smoke, you don't want a cigarette, no, and here we go [fart] five, and -- [snap] Do you want a cigarette?
Gary Phelps: No I don't.
Dr. Stewart: Then my job is done.
Gary Phelps: [bursts into laughter]
Dr. Stewart: [fart] Please leave the door open as you leave. [fart]
Gary Phelps: OK, thank you, Doctor.

[typing resumes and another fart is heard]

WOO!
BREATHE!

[Bridge]
One and then the two
Two and then the three
Three and then the four
Then you gotta BREATHE
One and then the two
Two and then the three
Three and then the four
Then you gotta BREATHE
Then you gotta (gasp)
Then you gotta (gasp)

[Hook I]
Yo these niggaz can't breathe when I come through, hum too
Some shoes, gotta be 20 man
It's not even funny they can't BREATHE
The choke holds too tight
The left looks too right
You know what? You right
These bitches can't BREATHE

[Hook II]
Look look, they hearts racin'
They start chasin'
But I'm so fast when I blow past
That they can't BREATHE
In the presence of the man
Your future looks better than ya past if you present with the man
You betta BREATHE

You niggaz can't share my air
Or walk a mile in the pair I wear
And I'm gettin better year by year
Like they say Wine do
Cops couldn't smell me if you brought the canines through
And I pace myself
I know these money hungry bitches wanna taste my wealth
But I keep em' on a diet
Embrace they health
Or either keep em' on a quiet
And space myself
And just take a deep breath
I got em' grabbin' they chest
Cuz it's hurtin' em' to see Fab in his best
And they in they worst
They rather see me lay in the hearse than lay in the back
And I ain't just layin a verse
I'm sayin the facts
I came back with some sicka stones
That got these broke niggaz lookin at me like they chokin' on a chicken bone
Every chick I bone
Can't leave the dick alone
So I know
It's one of them everytime I flip my phone

[BRIDGE]</i>

[HOOK I]

[HOOK II]

I see em on the block when I passes
Lookin like they need oxygen mask-es
I make it hard to BREATHE
But I keep the glocks in the stashes
Cuz the cops wanna lock and harass us
And make it hard to BREATHE
They has to react
Like havin' a asthma attack
When they see the plasma in back
You dudes are wheezin' behind me
My flow is like a coupe, breezin at 90
That's the reason they signed me
It's quick metaphors and hard punches on the cuts
Feels somethin' like hard punches to the gut
How I address the haters and under estimaters
And ride up on them like they escalators
They shook up and hooked up to respirators
On they last breath talking to investigators
I'm a breath of fresh air
And a fresh pair
Face it boo and do it till your face get blue
And then BREATHE

[BRIDGE]</i>

[HOOK I]

[HOOK II]

When the crew walk in it
Pop a few corks in it
As quick as a tick in a New York minute
Catch a breath, fore u catch a left
Even worse, catch a Tef
Only way u catch a F
To the A-B, its in the maybe
Rollin with my baby
Grippin on a toy that you won't find in +KayBee+
I rhyme slick on ya
I'm a have to put the Heimlich on ya
What you know bout lettin' dimes lick on ya?
While you inhale the weed
And it won't stop till they inhale ya seed
And it don't stop I tell em' to breathe
Like a doctor with a stethoscope
I don't see no fuckin hope
Unless these motherfuckers BREATHE

Yeah, Brooklyn gotta
Uptown gotta
the Bronx gotta
Queens gotta
Staten Isle gotta
You niggas gotta
You bitches gotta
Everybody BREATHE

One and then the two
Two and then the three
Three and then the four
Then you gotta.. BREATHE
Then you gotta..
Then you gotta..
BREATHE
Oh* BREATHE
BREATHE
Oh* BREATHE
BREATHE
BREATHE
Oh* BREATHE
BREATHE

Like a breath of fresh air and the wind at my back
Toe to heel with strong strides taking miles off the map
In this journey called life where I've walked so far
Under the heat of your sun and the shine of your stars
Step by step I've crept, I've crawled, and I've run
Felt the palm of your hand and the barrel of death's gun
I ran for my life stood strong through strife
From a miscarried life to waiting for my wife like
I heard it sung a thousand strong all night long
Heard heaven's bell going something long, it's like
I've been there in total despair
Now I've tasted and I've touched
A breath of fresh air

'Cause I do live and I hope and pray
For something better and brighter today
For something there for something there

[CHORUS:]
'Cause I was just a poor boy living in a poor world
But you gave me more love that set me free
'Cause I was just a poor boy living in a poor world
But you have gave me more love that set me free

Like road trips on open roads
Windows down sun setting and fresh new clothes
Shoes off so you can stop reflect on all these paths unfolding
With these staffs that are pulling in this world so controlling
It's not always best to take the interstate
Sometimes the most is on the windy coast way
'Cause wide is the path pulling astray
Narrow is the truth in these days
But all the while I hear a still small voice say
You climbed the cliffs rocked the desert on your very own
Swam the seas, sang the songs with the sweetest tones
The beaches you've combed, moons you've roamed the love you've shown
But all the while a voice calls you home

'Cause I do live and I hope and pray
For something better and brighter today
For something there for something there

[CHORUS]