1998 Freestyle - Trackmasters

(Verse 1) Son I’m iller on the street Than I am on wax Or if you see me in New York See me making me stacks And if you see me on the island See me taking a jack And I think I’m all that How yall niggas feel about that Be careful This rap shit it’ll get to your head Have you screaming fuck the police when you scared of the feds Here’s a jewel Love your enemies And hate your friends Your enemies remain the same your friends always change I travel, state to state Stash box filled with weight Jaguar XK8 Money machines countin papes Kites with 5 words kill em now don’t wait For 21 years I’ve been sober slingin dope and crack 1 year I’ve been down with rap son and I fuckin relapse Hydro and hash I’m twistin it Cash I’m gettin it Cristal I’m sippin it Hot shit I’m spittin it (Verse 2) Yo giving me flashbacks when I was young I was laughed at Here’s the facts I had stash cracks In my ass crack Ayo some cats get shot And some cats get smacked And niggas get crazy and they don’t know how to fuckin act Phone check Dude get the fuck off the jack Got a stash box with a mac In a baby blue ac Trynna find out where you rest at So I could run up in that Blast the gat Run off with your stack I’m on it like that I’m livin like that I’m eatin like that Takin that cheese that’s the way it is man And it’s like that