A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

SCARFACE lyrics : "Guess Who's Back Feat Beanie Sigel & Jay Z"

[Jay-Z talking]
Talk to me man?
This ya boy Young Hova, yo turn the muh'$#&@in noise up

We'll get right into the proceedings this evening
Headphones are distortin', bring it down a lil' bit
Okay, now we workin' wit it

The boy Face on the bassline, Face ? Mob
Welcome to New York City
It's ya boy Young Hov' chea

Kanye West on the track Chi-Town, what's goin' on now
Can I talk to y'all for a minute
Lemme talk to y'all for a minute

Just gimme a minute of ya time baby ? I don't want much
Lemme talk to these muh'$#&@as, uhh


[Verse 1: Jay-Z]
Guess who's bizack
You still smellin' crack in my clothes

Don't make me have to relapse on these hoes
Take it back out to taxing them roads
When I was huggin' it, ^!$$%s couldn't do nuttin' with it

Straight from the oven with it, came from the dirt
I emerged from it all without a stain on my shirt
You can blame my old earth, for the %#@! she instilled in me

Still with me, pain plus work
%#@! she made me milk this game for all it's worth
That's right, these ^!$$%s can't $#&@ with me

I'm calling guts every time, drag my nuts every time
Homey, we make a great combination don't we
Me and the Face Mob, every time we face-off

Face it y'all, y'all ^!$$%s playing basic-ball
I'm on the block like I'm eight feet tall
Homey, I'm in the drop with the AC on

That's why the streets embrace me dawg, I'm so cool

[Hook]

Guess who's bizack
Back on the block with them O's
Face Mob, Mack Mittens and Hov'

Don't make me relapse
Back to the block with the four
Cause this street %#@! is all I know


[Verse 2: Scarface]
From the womb to the tomb, a hot pot a jar and a spoon

Trying to make me forty thousand and move
Motels, star-studded, rock stars and goons
Plain clothes wanna run in my room

But ^!$$% guess who's bizack, it's ya boy Face Mob
Started with an eightball, gotta get this cake dawg
Give ^!$$%s a break, nah; you know how the game go

$#&@ you think I slang for, to go against the grain, no
I'm out here in grind mode, wrapped up in the paper chase
I wanna $#&@ a fine ho and candy paint the 88

Don't got no wholesale, cause that ain't how I wanna run it
Here take these five stones and bring a ^!$$% back a hundred
Gotta see my feet dude, you do %#@! a fiend do

The fire get too hot in the kitchen, I hit the streets fool
Money is an issue and that's on the fo' shizzle my nizzle
Ya block warm, and I come by with the fizzle

And make fo' sho' I get to work mines, for part of the time
We go to war and you ain't making a dime
Cause I got, %#@! to lose; a ^!$$% out here paying his dues

My baby walking gotta get him some shoes
It's a new game brewin', lemme give ya the rules
Get outta line and I'mma give ya the blues

It's a new game doin', lemme give ya the rules
Get outta line and I'mma give ya the blues, whoa


[Verse 3: Beanie Sigel]
Guess who's bizack
The boy B. Mizack, a.k.a. Mr. Crack-A-Brick

Turn a whole one from a half a brick, look I mastered this
You can smell it once the plastic rips
A hot plate'll make ya swell up if ya gas get clipped

You can make ya chips swell up, ya don't hafta pitch
Play them corners like a safety, watch the traffic switch
Young'n never pump fake, and you'll get past the blitz
And keep ya whole hood on flip, like old box-spring
Pissy mattress %#@!, low old box of things

Strictly glassy %#@!, I hug the block like quarter water
%#@! I used to hug a corner like a old deuce and a quarter
Till like deuce in the morning, with the old heads
Slangin' loose quarters, this Philly cat back at it
Still $#&@in' with them crack addicts

Still bustin' with that black-matic

[Hook]

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