Bars R' Us

Kill one of them wise guys, you gotta kill a hundred They just keep coming after you..... [Verse: Ransom] I done broke bread with some niggas, read from like every book At the end of the day I'm still gon' be a petty crook In the kitchen with bricks, Ran is a deadly cook Got these fiends running through they lines like Reggie Bush Your favorite rapper is dope but still very puss Leave him in the woods, body parts in like every bush That's how the dessi look, the world already shook I'm running with Saddam and we gunning down every bush I use to hustle scag now I'm in the cut with Fab Trynna get a couple jags, money in a duffle bag I never fuck with fags, make em all suffer bad Slugs from that dirty shot gun that'll crush your abs I got a bodega flow, it's sort of new Spit like some barbecue seeds and a quarter juice You just a soft excuse, see me in a flossy coupe Thug motivation, I'll show you how to get off the stoop You better call a truce This ain't a basketball court but if you play with good D then I'm force to shoot They use to call me brute, now I'm just awfully cute Couple whips in the back, it's like I played a part roots I gotta roll the dice. Got a heart cold as ice You hearing these bars and you living through a solider's life You got a piece of the pie, need to control the slice Before I catch you slipping in your car like Obie Trice [Verse 2: Fabolous] Got a little money, little respect, even a little power earned Since the day the first album turned and the towers burned Now I'm letting sour burn, waiting 'til it's our turn And I keep squeezing 'til them coward learn how it burn When I'm behind the mic, you know it's thirty thou' I earn And I might say some crazy shit like Howard Stern I'm guilty for letting Gallardo horse power burn Otherwise you can't judge me, the court is now adjourned I'm slamming the gavel, Lambo to travel nigga It fucks the streets up, damage the avenue nigga The hammer will have you dancing like Hammer on gravel And you know the pump-action of the gauge I moonwalk 'em back like Michael Jackson on the stage The niggas that do it will be a fraction of your age I keep the toys washed, the boys harsh I can get the boy squashed without crossing the George Wash I do the 28 carats one take a guess Rock one of Jacob's best?, let the sun take a rest Son make 'em stressed like the cops on him Run up to your pops, warn him, while I got the drop on him I'll put your seed in a bag, you know, popcorn him Tell him you can't sell unless it's purple tops on them I'll puts some guap on him and friend will maybe find him in a dumpster Like they did Brenda's baby [Verse 3: Paul Cain] I'm deeper than the North Atlantic, my bars done caused a panic Every jail, up north, I ran it like a beast I dig in beats Y'all know the kid ??? stretch a lot a ??? It's a dirty game and we playing in the this bitch for keeps I don't do shit discrete, cock sucker, this the streets Two young guns with me and I don't mean Chris and Neef Adrenaline junky, live for beef If you don't your shit split, you getting pistol whipped until you missing teeth And trust if we meet, everybody here deceased You might as well die with them, you know you gon' miss your peeps Check my resume, my background official, chief It's fact, I kill all raps, you can ask Pistol Pete 5-k-1 killer, I don't just disown a snitch Load the clips, blow the blitz, from long dis' blow a kiss Even if you know you about to blow the 24 the ??? Where I'm from you carry the load, you ain't suppose to bitch That's why I watch who I'm around when I pose for flicks And I don't talk none of my business around these nosey chicks I control the strip, potent shit, my soliders pitch I got what you need whether you pop, shoot, smoke or sniff Everybody claims they sold it all from o's to bricks But if you ask around the hood, they never even sold a nick I hear these other clowns bragging about they blowin chips But in the club they don't know the difference between Mo' and Cris There's no rapper coming close to this Nigga all I smoke is piff, it's pure fuego in every vocal spit A hundred thou' rap both my wrists These new comers talking about they run Brooklyn like me and Fab don't exist You wanna hold something, hold my dick You ain't gotta like me, I know your sick Number 1 soloist Nigga