Your Way

[Verse 1: J.R. Writer]

Aight - yo

I ain't gon' front, I always thought he was a survivor

Shells and rounds, held 'em down, when he was in the fire

Now feds got him tapped from the sneakers to attire

Just like Kanye West, speakin' through the wire

Like: "Don't forget, make sure you speak into the wire!"

Thinkin' not he was singin', he would be up in the choir

When I find 'em, I'ma put the heater to his visor

All he's gon' see is the screechin' on the tire

Up the block, bang a right, make a left

Thang I light, made 'em stretch

Candlelights, graves are set

Not only that though - all his weight was wet

Hustle dummies, fucked up money, and was way in debt

[Verse 2: Juelz Santana]

It was all good just a week ago

We was together smokin', hella reefer smoke

All in the vehicle

I got the word back: he was in the vehicle

With the D's, I bet he thought he was low

Damn, this nigga spent the night in my crib

Sat in my mom's kitchen, now he go off snitchin'

But this my man, I could just stop fuckin' wit' 'em

Like I'm just not fuckin' wit''em...or just pop one up in 'em

Plus - there's rules here: if you play where the rats play

You gotta go, you must lay where the rats lay

Hate to see a nigga that I broke bread with

His whole head split - cold, dead, stiff

[Verse 3: Cam'ron]

See he opposed when we slapboxed

Then we dove the crack rocks

Jackpot: Golden Rolls when we drove the Jag drops

Du-rag top, ock, we cut the cheese together

Legos, ate Eggos, went to Chuck E. Cheese together

We watched Chucky, Shucky Ducky, we were lucky

Had a Huffy, then a buggy

Sold dubs, and twenty three's the weather

Now he got the nerve, to get lazy, watch me serve

With guac? or herb, now he gettin 'jealous cuz I'm coppin' birds

And he wired like MoneyGram, I got the doctrine

Went to the spy store so I watched who's watchin'

And you thinkin' that Cam's sweet? Damn the street

Fuck rock he ran to sleep, I'm cuttin off his hands and feet

And his glands and teeth...Yeah, the mission get done

Dunn, this bitch is the one, that told me to christen my son!

And the muscle tight, he wouldn't tussle, fight

Fucked up his juggle, he couldn't hustle right

Shoulda came for a loan, you know that scrilla's like

But what's ill tonight, Killa gotta kill his wife

Yup, address her homey, won't say he left her lonely

Seen some transactions, don't need a testimony

And I'm no punk, I pump lead bastard

When I dump, you'll get bumped, yeah them bunkbed caskets

And a brother just smiled, I just got him a ditch

Another motherless child, cuz they father's a snitch