Had it Up 2 Here

[Intro] It's going down baby! Bucktown, Duckdown baby [whispering] My B.C.C., Cocoa B'z, Top Dog [Sean Price] Starang where you at? B.D.I. Eye we got to this People, Don [Louieville] Niggas had it up 2 here [Louieville] A nigga had it up to here [Louieville] I'm tired of fallen' [Louieville] Slugs fallen' all day [Steele] Feelin' this, feelin' this [Steele] [Verse 1: Steele] I'm in the ride right Getting high right When some guy comes wit some papers for me to sign right Aight money started acting fly Like I ain't shit he the one that should be in the lime light Saying he rhyme tight Coming all out his face Saying that he's better than any rapper that out right I'm like look I care if you were dumb like Your demo was reviewed in The Source and they gave you 9 mics I can care less who look like Or who you rhyme like Let me show what a real MC sounds like [Verse 2: Buckshot] I pulled up to the red light Somebody was parked on my right I heard them like K Ain't you that little nigga from Bucktown or Ducktown or whatever? What's up with you now nigga As a matter of fact I got some rough shit and going love it Make you a million boy if you fuck with Trust me dog my flow is grimy Soon as spit you dog you'll be the first to sign me Listen your flow is aight though Really wasn't tight though You're kind of loose with aight bite flows Got me like WHOA! Let me keep it moving or my shottie might blow Spittin' but you bullshit me yo I can't hear your ill sub-libs You ain't gotta feel Boot Camp to fill some tims But you will respect the 4th Star Or I'm spit 4 at your sports car When you spit bar listen par You better respect or I'm a have the check Let the loan half of the check got yet Hummm Who was it cuz only stopped I cause I thought knew who it was Now move up [Verse 3: Tek] I had it up to here with y'all weak ass rappers DJ's CEOs I want y'all to know I had it up to here with y'all hundred grand producers Fake ass thugs, dress codes in clubs I had it up to here with y'all P.D.R's Racist cops cheeba holders don't me start I had it up to here with y'all wannabe stars Trying to be who you ain't just be who you are, Man Who you think your talking be Get your head bust to the white meat, questioning me Won't play cause I won't pay what you think I'm a bitch Never tell who shot you what think I'm a snitch But I will the order for them to smack you up Clap you up, yo money lone we snatch you up Think you hide where, I got family over there and they all think like me We had it up to here [Verse 4: Starang Wondah] Ayo, I was a broke working nigga This rap got me money I had bitches; my good looks kept the honies But in the game niggas with real money They steal from me, when you mention my name I changed the real money In the game after a few years I'm still hungry, put the band back together Its bout get real ugly yo I crush plenty guys, I had plenty wives I'm on old school tapes I'm only twenty-five Niggas would doubt me, bitches talk about me They both wouldn't be shit without me Starang One [Verse 5: Top Dog] Yes, Yes Y'all Y'all know niggas ready to brawl y'all Hit the floor y'all The 4-pound leaving all y'all wasted The gun powder can you taste it The Big Khahuna ready to ride up in your place, bitch Can you feel me? These bitch niggas trying to kill No what they do to me, to try to fool me see D.O. stay sharp and on top of my game Spittin' my flames, so don't throw dirt on my name I'm trying to hold lot of thing and make a whole lot of cream All the plots and the schemes got me doing wicked things [Verse 6: Sean Price] Shoot your moms, stab your pops, rape your daughter Get the moment on the tape recorder Give copies out to every nigga up in the hood Let them know I'm not the nigga to fuck with up in the hood Give me some weed, give some coke, give me some dope Give your seed; give me your throat, give me some rope Choking your bitch provoking your click To get guns, smoking a spliff You're throwing a fit, now that's fun Backpack niggas acting all funny and shit Till I them that shit is wack they're no money in this And you female rappers I'm end your careers Rap my hands around your throat while you get banged from the rear I'm the type of nigga that will throw a shell in your arm You the type to snitch, bitch Why you telling my moms listen Y'all bitch niggas are bout as wack as come Don't make me clap you in the back of the ass when I'm done [Verse 7: Illa Noyz] We pack 10 billion, 987 million, 654 thousand 321 hundred fans in housing know how we get down and What this shit about The Boot Camp sounding it's astounding But I'm tried of it, questioning y'all budget I wanna snuff but I look him and be like ahh fuck it But now I ride wit it when I blow I slide wit it All I know I'm Boot Camp and are niggas Now a days I had it up to here [Louieville]