Sheek Louch Album

Hey yo B.G., pass my drink my nigga
We gon' try this one more time
I'm back motherfuckers, get the mac muh'fuckers
Pull it out the trunk, clack clack muh'fuckers
I told y'all to "Walk Witt Me," dropped somethin sick on it
And I ain't put no one but my motherfuckin clique on it (D-Block)
No R&B, I ain't have no muh'fuckin chick on it
These other niggaz songs, jail niggaz beat they dick on it
Now I got a couple guests; friends, got a couple less
I don't give a fuck, my bullets goin through a couple vests
This ain't rehearsal; you TV, I'm DVD bitch
What I'm sayin is ain't no commercial
I came to stomp shit out, drive by or get out
Got a lil' money but, I'm used to bein without
So act like I won't put your face on the side of Chase
Then take your Bass right off your little designer waist
Can beat you with the hands, but I'm packin just in case
Dice game, niggaz sweatin, hopin that I ace
Real niggaz fuck with me, thank you if you stuck with me
Now the whole hood, screamin out a nigga company
D-B, L-O-C-K
LyricsStill got the turntables right next to the instant replay
First I let you get to know me, now this one here
I'ma let you bitches get to blow me, talk to 'em slowly
Fuck bein humble, and fuck the sophomore jinx
I been around since the Benjamins was in the Tunnel
It ain't changed, I seen niggaz turn Bryant Gumbel
After that, I done wild out and didn't fumble
I even threw two guns up like I was in the jungle
You will now board, flight number 3-5-4
First class hip-hop, and we landin in hardcore
The music niggaz pray to they God for
Y'all niggaz judge it yourself
But if you soft and don't do dirt, this music might be bad for your health
Whattup? {*gunshot*}

{*Helicopter flies overhead*}

There comes a time, in every man's life
When he gon' have to decide, who he fuckin with
Who you fuckin with? Them niggaz don't care about you
Them niggaz don't give a fuck about you
Why you rappin like that? This street music!

[Sheek Louch]
Yo, let's, talk about it what; Sheek can throw
the fiend on a nigga guarantee he won't walk up out it
No no, nickel-plated uhh; kinda old
but the muzzle them usin make this motherfucker updated
Puh-puh, nigga please; if a nigga had your son
and had him lookin down you wouldn't even squeeze
Uh uhh, I don't know; I don't wanna hear about
the money that you had, or what you did a long time ago
Yo yo the hood is mine; I don't gotta sell a lot
I just live off more points than the porcupines
Uh uhh, feel me cousin? Sheek been a problem
before this D-Block shit started buzzin
LyricsSome are sayin - no he wasn't, he turned sick
With that women in your family can suck my dick
And I've been red hot every since; I ain't sayin I'm the best
Muh'fucker, I'm just workin with some sense

[Chorus: Sheek Louch]
This is that blood, crip, latin king shit, every hustler pushin a whip
Street music - what? {*repeat 4X*}
This is that blood, crip, latin king shit, every hustler pushin a whip
Street music - what? {*repeat 4X*}

[Sheek Louch]
Y'all niggaz so sweet, Sheek so street
From the doo rag on my head to the sneakers on my feet
The heart in my chest, black on my flesh
And I swear to my son, I'll leave this shit a mess
I do it for the yard, where most of my squad
is sittin in a cell, goin through hell
And every frontin nigga got a story to tell
Bye bye nigga, doves fly nigga
The hardest nigga spittin came from Bed-Stuy nigga
After that was Sheek, some say it was Jigga
I got loyalty; I ain't a king to none of this shit
But I swear, on the streets I'm royalty
Kinda scary ain't it? You don't wanna be
That's why the hood treat you colder than the A&P
I throw my fists up - but it ain't for black power
It's for any motherfucker that gets up

[Chorus]

[Sheek Louch]
Niggaz don't wanna buh-bug bang with me
Cause 9 out 10 when you see me I got the muh'fuckin thangs with me
Fuck it put 'em up; muh'fucker put your guns in the air
If you with me nigga hold 'em up
Ruh ruh rowdy ain't it; I ain't afraid to go to war
and have a nigga white tee, like you fingerpaint it
Every hood got 'em, kinda hard to spot 'em
Once I'm there about to tell you what nigga shot him
What the fuck is up? I ain't nuttin up
Niggaz hard 'til they leakin through they button up
Get at my crew, whatever nigga who
You don't need a flight to be all JetBlue
Understand me nigga - if it happens, it happens
But I ain't really a Grammy nigga
Sheek spit rage; y'all don't want me to win nuttin
I'm bringin the whole Block on the stage

[Chorus]

Psh, let me try this machine one more time man
Put one more coin in this shit right here lemme see, let's go
{*slot machine sound simulated by a synth keyboard*}
Ohh! Yo I hit? We rich my niggaz! We rich! Ha ha!
Koch, whattup? No more lookin back now nigga
It is what it is bitch, I'm ready

[Chorus: Sheek Louch]
For the road again - I got my money, my passport
My gun is loaded, nigga I'm ready
For the road again - I got my weed, a couple niggaz
Some liquor, the new Madden, I'm ready
For the road again - I'm in your town puttin it down
Bankheadin and all that, I'm ready
For the road again - I'm goin back out my niggaz
All aboard bitches, OWW!

[Sheek Louch]
Hey yo, my momma struggled for me, poppa juggled for me
My niggaz huddled for me, they said you gotta let 'em off
Let him do his thing (let him do his thing)
LyricsY'all ain't tryin to work with him, let him spread his wings
Let him go out in the world, see a couple things (Sheek Louch)
See what's workin for him, see who chirpin for him
For what shows and what label is lurkin for him (D-Block!)
I got it bitin ma, I've been writin ma (been writin ma)
I've cut down on drinkin but I've been lightened ma
You've gotta see my stage show, I'm excitin ma
Your boy nice (I'm nice) - dropped my album, did around 400
I expected double, I guess they didn't want it
Niggaz stayin blunted, walk with me zit
We can pop it in and you ain't gotta touch shit
Anyway; back to the drawin board
I'm independent now, whoever with me all aboard

Hold on son - hey yo Foolz rewind that back my nigga
I think I forgot, I gotta tell 'em a lil' more shit
That happened between me and shit
Aight that's far enough let's go

Hey yo, anyway, Kadar about to leave (ha ha)
P comin home, Ruff Ryders lil' seed (yeah)
'Kiss asked "Why," how kids gotta die
to Mr. George Bush and his sales hit the sky (let's go my nigga)
Ja reached out with this "New York" idea (New Yorrrrrrk)
'Kiss from the hood so he was like hell yeah (I got you son)
50 gettin mad, came out with "Piggy Bank"
That was probably the best song he had
We had to shit on him (uh-huh), Game quit on him (yeah)
Now we got it locked like we sicked the pit on him (it's ours nigga)
We're takin meetings, but we don't wanna go major
Cause we know how these artists takin beatings
Plus I seen how these down South niggaz do it
Eight dollars? Shit, I could get used to it
Look at Lil' Jon, nigga got his own fluid (Get Crunk)
Ying Yang and them, they can show you how to do it
Now I'm gettin crunk with Koch and them
All these new niggaz spittin? I'm watchin them
I got a thousand songs like 'Pac and them
And niggaz prayin for me like Ak and them (yeah)
My son is born, I'm back alive
I caught a DWI tryin to drink and drive (damn)
I'm huggin the bottle, I'm hittin the throttle
Got a beat tape playin tryin to think some bars
Like weed I just put 'em in my mental jars
'Til I get up in the booth and space out like Mars (oh!)
I'm ready for it (uh-huh) I already saw it
A lot of shit about to change, niggaz can't ignore it

[Chorus]

For the road again

(feat. Jadakiss)

Pain, pain, pain, pain, pain, pain
the pain that a man as just didn't do it
when two junior flip hot rod lovin pig police man
(pain) put 'em in a position where he must choose
against humiliation as a man or death
(pain) leave your head, cuz you outta be dead

[Sheek Louch]
Block-a this is your brain on drugs
Love is pain and pain is love

[Jadakiss]
Block-a this your brain on drugs
Ya'll came wit police we came wit thugs

[Sheek Louch]
Ayo I droped pain on 'em, switched the game on 'em
Whoever out there hot I'mma rein 'em
I see niggaz slowin down I'mma gain on 'em
LyricsNo beef but fuck it put his brain on 'em
Uh if his face is hurtin
I'm in Yonkers comin down burnin in that thing wit the curtain
pants leg up call me Sheek Cool J
Hat low shorty from paris run way, the thing is loaded
Eatin lunch wit politician and I don't even think I voted
They see my face they think I'm rich
I'm by myself they think I'm bitch
Until they layin why doctors stitch
Cuz I clap like a nasty bitch
You don't know me, you know my name
You heard my raps, but you don't feel my pain

[Chorus: 2X]
I got more than you lookin for--> Sheek Louch
Pain--> Jadakiss
She backin it up on the dance floor--> Sheek Louch
Pain--> Jadakiss
By her self tellin me she got more--> Sheek Louch
Pain--> Jadakiss
It ain't all bad homey its sumthin good--> Sheek Louch
Pain--> Jadakiss

[Jadakiss]
yea, yo, uh, sort of like in a vangelis
Cuz you hear it but you don't know how to handle this
Uh, be it nine or the knife
Everybody felt it at sometimes in they life
Its all different kinds to endure
Pain is pure and most time it ain't no pure
Thats why I'm in the hood I don't be where the stars is
One of my records is platinum but all of my cars is
You pokin Mount Air lodge is
I'm Germnay tall bust menage a trois' , "Trading Places"
If you don't like the hand you was dealt just make sure you save your aces
Uh, and I'm gettin a lil Dividends
Big Boys think I'm distributin
Divin off yachts in the Carribean
Yea, thats just the life that we livin in

[Chorus: 2X]

[Sheek Louch]
AYo, I'm ridin dirty
On the passenger side wit just the premier me and my birdy
Lui boots red monkey jeans on
Jamaica chick get my sex and Queens on
Haze lit, blunt lick finger thick
Flow make 'em all fight like a spring a chick
Sheek Louch and Jada *meowa*
Put 'em half dollar hoes on the side of your car

[Jadakiss]
Yo neva put your eyein away
Dream like you livin forever but live like you dyin today
Uh, 38 is new, 357 is a lil older
Everythin else is for the shoulder
From hear on I spit it on red form
Brinin these niggaz eatin the ground of air born
And you just runnin your mouth, stay in your house
If you don't know nuttin about no PAIN!

[Chorus: 2X]

Oh, oh...
We gon' do it like - oh, oh... {*repeat 3X*}
We gon' do it like

[Sheek Louch]
Sheek usually white tee thuggin, blue steel huggin
See me with a chick, most likely be fuckin
Neighbors too nosy, chain all rosy
Fresh white Airs, one squirt of Dolce
Coupe all kitted, wrist all glitted
You would think I'm hot in how low I wear my fitted
Dutch already twisted, 'gnac all poured
'Bout to hit the hood and find me a nasty broad
I like 'em with some weight, at least around eight
They don't gotta be a 10 long as they can bring a friend
C'mon, pile in, let your hair out
Reach into that little mini-bar and pull a beer out
Loose, there's cranberry if you need it for the Grey Goose
By now I got my pants around my ankles
Ooh c'mere mama, let me thug you out
Let me whisper somethin to you that'll bug you out
Lyrics
[Chorus]
45 minutes to Broadway
I can be downtown, I'm only 5 minutes from the Boogie Down
45 minutes to Broadway
We can come back up to Y.O. where I blow your back up
45 minutes to Broadway
We can get drunk ma, and hang out right in the sports bar
45 minutes to Broadway
Or you can fly to New York bitch, the home of this D-Block playa

[Sheek Louch]
We like "Take it off!"
Do you mind if I take a picture of you and send it up North?
My homey in his cell and all he got is Black Tail
He need a Polaroid so he can let 'em know it's real (ha ha)
And you ain't gotta stay indoors
I got a house key for doin the choors (no doubt)
Chef in the mornin, mines scrambled baby, how you want yours?
(How you want your eggs?) I take 'em to the hood, send 'em to the store
Introduce 'em to my homies, Sheek so raw
It's all fair game, I come back with four more
Don't be scared ma - you heard a lot about D-Block, right?
Well you here ma, let's go

[Chorus]

[Sheek Louch]
I don't wanna talk about it (nah)
You keep tellin me your house is crowded (so?)
What'chu wanna move in? I doubt it (uh-uh)
I'll let you sleep over, use the robe and go get you an outfit
I like my freedom baby, I already got a baby
I lay my game down flat soon as I meet a lady
We can do it up, I don't care if you married
Divorced with kids, I don't give a fuck

[Chorus] - 2X

Oh, oh... we gon' do it like - {*repeat 2X*}

(feat. Carl Thomas)

Roc drop that baby
Rocwilder on the track ladies and gentlemen
No doubt
Aiyyo Carl Thomas, help me out dog...
{*Carl harmonizes*}
I mean, this is for the grown and sexy right?
(For the grown and sexy)
That's what they say

[Sheek Louch]
Hey yo, let's walk baby, and talk baby
You know where I'm from (New York baby)
You look good enough to put you on a fork baby
You got them other chicks outlined in chalk baby
Uhh - you killin 'em
Wit'cha Chanel shades and ya 'Licia Keys brais, I'm feelin 'em
(Okay) Blow with me, flow with me
I wan' take you to a show with me
I wan' cool out in the crib with a lil' sticky
LyricsI wan' see how you look in a lil' Vicky
Ha ha, you sexy baby, stomach tight
Ass right, nice heighth
Damn baby bless yo' momma
Any girl scratch yo' face it will be drama
Comma, I'm just jokin
But your body kinda got me open - damn!

[Chorus: Carl Thomas]
Girl your spiritual, and your physical
Got my boldened soul, so emotional
I was thinkin - one house, two cars, one name
Glad I'm not a lame, and this is not a game
So why not do it now, and why not show you how
Baby I was thinkin - one house, two cars, one name

[Sheek Louch]
Sheek Def Poetry, incent burnin
Hat low, GT, listenin to Floetry
Sendin notes, see if shorty wanna go with me
Check yes if she wanna be my girl
Then to the wife, welcome to the life
Big trips, Louis bags, welcome to the ice (bling)
Rock big enough to make Trump look twice
Nice - holla at your boy
We can fly to Cali to pick out your toy
But make sure it's big enough for a girl and boy
But no rush, we got time to crush
And get to know each other 'fore I bust

[Chorus]

[Sheek Louch]
Aiyyo, I wanna stretch you baby, sex you baby
I ain't that what sit around and text you baby
But I will pull over, jump out the Rover
Hug you like I miss you, kiss you all over
And I'm too grown not to keep this real
And I ain't hardcore enough to hide the way I feel
All you gotta do is hold on tight
Put your feet up, sit back, enjoy the night
I got you

[Chorus]

{*Carl Thomas ad libs to end*}

[Caller:Tony Yayo]
Your Out, Sheek Pussy Mothafucka (Hehe) (Sheek Louch: Who This?)
Yo, I Heard U Be Givin You Fucking...On My....You Fucking Pussy Mothafucka(Sheek Louch: Wha?)
I Want U Come Down ....Spot So I Can Buck You,(Sheek Louch: Fuck Who..?)
Cuz Afcourse, I'ma Kill You, U Fuckin Dirty Nigga
And Yo, Count D-Block To, They Can Come And Suck My Fucking Cock (Sheek Louch: YAYO!?)

(Thanks Arnel for these lyrics)

[Sheek Louch]
50 you a rat, you a coward, you a snitch
You a bitch motherfucker now hear this {*tch-tch BOOM*}
All you talk about is money and sales
What you need to talk about is all them niggaz that you put in them jails
We don't dry snitch niggaz (nah) rappin and whisperin
Knowin that the rap police listenin
Homey know just what he doin, who career he swipe
That's aight, Ja got him, niggaz say goodnight (aight)
I'ma blast 'til I go on the run
Just mad at Game cause he ain't like them, he ain't your son (bitches)
50 this, 50 that; nigga 50 whack (50 whack)
Nigga laid you down, when you gon' get him back? (woo)
And when you gon' say somethin hot on the track? (never)
I guess the next time you get hit'll be your back
A fucked up nigga, let me get down wit'chu
I make sure niggaz don't hit you - ha ha

[Chorus]
Hey yo maybe if I siiiiing, I'll be rich (should I sing?)
And maybe if I rat on you, I'll be rich (or maybe I should rat on you)
LyricsMaybe if I crossover, I'll be rich (I need to cross over I think)
I wanna beeee, I wanna be, just like that 50 bitch (how can I be like that nigga)
Maybe if I siiiiing, I'll be rich (should I sing son?)
And maybe if I rat on you, I'll be rich (who should I give up?)
Maybe if I crossover, I'll be rich (I need to cross over)
I wanna beeee, I wanna be, just like that 50 bitch

[Sheek Louch]
Hey yo Banks you got a half-assed flow
But fuckin with homey, all you gon' get is half-assed dough
And where the fuck was you at wit'cha big-ass face
When I was writin "Benjamins" with 'Kiss, Diddy and Ma$e
I ain't heard of you homey, 'til you blew up quick
But back then I'm pretty sure that you was on my dick (LOX nigga)
I dropped L.O.X., chest to chest, back to back
On Clue when, "If You Think I'm Jiggy" was whack
I wore shiny suits, niggaz knew I didn't belong
But even back then I still never sang on a song
I've been white-tee'd out (yeah) white haze and hash
It's fucked up, 50 makin y'all wear that trash (yeah!)
What he do, put your clothes on the bed, put your sneakers on the floor
and tell you what hat to put on your head? (ha ha ha)
You lil' muh'fuckers to me daddy
And I don't give a fuck if the doors lift up in your Caddy

[Chorus]

[Sheek Louch]
Go Young Buck (go Young Buck) that's my nigga (that's my nigga)
Even if 50 don't let you get bigger
I see you run around stage wit'cha shirt off; you need some food
You 'bout as big as "The Passion of Christ" dude
And I still got love for the dirty South
But I ain't gon' respect no nigga with my dick in his mouth
G-Unit gon' be gone once Dre bounce on you (G-G-G-G-G)
And it's fucked up cause Eminem tried to warn you
You ain't as big as these white dudes that cut your check
Think so? Wait and see who they go to next (D-Block)
You forgot about the hood scramps
Everybody ain't workin with bricks, some niggaz got gramps
No new guns, just them shits that jam
Fuck it though, I'ma ride wit'chu do the death
D-Block muh'fucker 'til there's no one left
G-G-G-G-G-G... the fuck outta here!
(Yo bring in the hook son, bring in the hook)

[Chorus] minus the (ad libs)

D-Block!

(feat. J Hood)

Ayo Devine drop that daddy

**repeat twice**
ooh weee, lets get it poppin daddy
uh, yea, lets get it poppin mommy

[Sheek Louch]
Ayo the moral of the story is
we all can't be gloriest
some of us still on our grind (our grind)
Thats why I walk wit this chrome .9 (I'm fine)
'Fore who eva want to cross this line Devine
Ayo Sheek on the street again, they know the big man is back
But niggaz still don't want to get down wit the heat again
You see me postin on the block, see these bitches on my cock
Seein you jumpin out the drop, sombody light up
I ain't fuckin wit you homey, you ain't smokin, you don't know me
you can eat from my dutch, I'mma fuck 'em right up
you can catch me all Nelly in the blue red dully
LyricsHalf crip half blood nigga west side
But you can catch me in New York on stage on the block
or even visitin my niggaz in the cage (lets ride)
Its somethin to do, lackin the fool, packin a .2, ok nigga

[Chorus: 2X]
Me and my niggaz on our New York shit
Me and my niggaz on our West Coast shit
Me and my niggaz on our down South shit
Yes, Midwest, Bay area

[J Hood]
Lets go, uh
When niggaz see me in the street they be like there go double O again
He got the .357 set and he 'bout to let it go again
Switchin up this flow again, grindin up for that dough again
Your mans in that set trip, I'm 'bout to put a hole in him
Hands up plus lip, let me see ya'll niggaz bang
Hit a nigga in his head make 'em come about this chain
Homey I'm the best at this shit
I'm the don wit a black mark about to tag up on this shit
That niggaz perpin ya'll ain't seen no bricks
We movin grindin on a new city gettin jacked suckin ain't no dick
And you can show if it ain't no purp-b
Our buns be color of pookey lips when they gave 'em that turkey
Been a long time comin, but my time is due
Everythin is crystal clear but the shines is blue
Caught away seats in the gray CL
Wit so many weight in the trunk
If you don't chop it the brick scale, nigga!

[Chorus: 2X]

[Sheek Louch]
Ayo me and my young boy
Remind me of my self in early days sort of like a young hoy
Now I'm puffin in the Phantom out in St. Croix
Blue water two bitches and peep a toy
But don't play it sweet, the heat is in the cooler
And the cooler got no bait for lunch meat
You done fuck see the morgue
You ain't fuckin wit me dawg
Ayo Hood you ready, bark at your fawg

[J Hood]
Ayo I'm 'bout coastal G
But I'm 'bout to east coast back where it 'pose to be
D-Block got the streets in a zip lock
And we bustin off 'em hammers
Like we don't give a fuck 'bout hip-hop
So who wanna get popped, just give me the word
It won't be occasion when I hit his ass wit this bird
Leave his ass on the curve
So you can put that yach on 'em
I'mma make this drug related and leave some crack on 'em

[Chorus: 2X]

(feat. Beanie Sigel, Fabolous & T.I.)

[Intro - Sheek Louch]
Hahahaha, y'all know what this is (D-BLOCK!)
Oh yeah, by the way...
THIS IS THE REMIX (WOOOO!)

[Hook - Sheek Louch]
You can kiss your ass goodbye (d-block, d-block, d-block, d-block)
La-da-da-da-da-daaaaa

[Sheek Louch]
Ay yo, the flow is here, the dough is here (yeah)
They gon' call this the hardest remix of the year (ha-ha)
The wrist is sickle, the 9 is nickled (damn)
The inside tan, the outer pickle (woooo!)
The dutch is rolled, the 'gnac is poured (iight)
You running your mouth, I'm getting you jawed (ow!)
I'm waving the blade; I'm telling you back up (back up!)
You empty your pockets, I'm picking your pack up (gimmie that)
You can act stupid if you wanna (uh-huh)
LyricsLike you don't know what block I'm in front of (I'm right here dog)
I'm out in New York or down in the south (no doubt)
I'm out in the trap with gold in my mouth (ha-ha)
They book me for the clubs and the hood (yeah)
When niggaz scared to go, but Sheek Louch good (D-BLOCK!)
It's loaded when I get out the car like... (la-da-da-da-da-daaaaa)

[Hook]

[Fabolous]
They say hate spread faster than love
So the Bentley is black, same color as the mask and the gloves
With me, I'm a send a bastard to bub
Before he get the police first and last to the gov
These dickhead niggaz, you shoot 'em and bleed come
Like two pussies they wet, just make it a three-some
They growing up quick, 'cause that'll buy your seed guns
Now they spreading magazines 'fore they can read one
My glass jar's had a hell of a re-run... (la-da-da-da-da-daaaaa)
As we proceed son, and I know
Every hood got a street fan if not they need one
I thinking short-range, give me a sport range
I wanna get warmer; I'm jumping in the sauna
Duck when I'm passing by
Put your head between your legs; kiss your ass goodbye (BLAAHHHHHH!)

[Hook]

[Beanie Sigel]
You niggaz lost y'all game; I'm throwing the Roc down
Just to put y'all D, I'm back on the Block now (uhh)
Running your mouth, 'fore I shit all in it
All y'all ass, and I'm about to dig all in it (eww!)
I birthed you niggaz, I fed and I burped you niggaz (uh-huh)
Quick as that, I will Earth you niggaz
Clothed you niggaz, wiped the snot from the nose of you niggaz
What not to expose you niggaz
Fist, knife, or razor fight
I got a year and a day, still played it like they gave me life
Can't walk through the jail without shackles and two cops (uhh)
Throwing shit on the warden outta the food slot (uh-huh)
Got connections with pop, he boofin the weed plants (yeah)
Get my khakis washed and pressed for a few stamps
Respect in the jail, a check in the mail
I stay on the phone; I don't put collect on the bill (mwah, ha-ha)

[Hook]

[T.I.]
Ay, you better know I'm going all-out, whatever the cost
So fuck whoever hating', I'm the king of the South
You gon' forever see me flossed, Spyder with the top off
Third gear I got lost to the million dollar law
J.G. the one who told the bitch to take your tops off
I'm a seven-figure nigga, paid the cost to be the boss
On the streets or behind the wall
Lift weights; get straight, 'til it's time to ball
Even if I never sell a million times at all
Dope boy trap niggaz, I'll grind for y'all
Pimp Squad, D-Block I'll ride for y'all
A-Town to Y.O, see the Chevy ride slow
With the light turned down and the beat down low
Throw the 40-cal and K's out the window
You better do like Lil' Jon told you "Get Low"
Cause you can catch the crystals, when the chopper-missile hit you
I ain't waiting for permission; I'm a flip until it hits you

[Hook]

[No lyrics]

(feat. Styles)

This beat is to be used, violently - weapons not included

[Sheek Louch]
Double platinum never; still on the grind though
Playin my position, watchin behind though
D-Block'd out, must I remind yo
Benjamins walk with me, two guns y'all can see
Money pile, wild out, nigga who want what
Every year it's somethin new for you to shake your butt
Get on yo' strut, you feelin me soldier?
Ten hun (ten hut) ten years strong, the record is long
Coulda been a lil' richer if I rocked a thong
Anyway; the Coupe is gray
Sheek startin to get hot in the hood like the month of May
My dog tags tangle, white tee on
Paul Wall bottoms, big Jacob bangle
One dutch of evil and piney
Matter fact, gimme some 'gnac and I'ma chase that with a Heine'
And make sure you pour some for my thugs behind me (yeah)
Lyrics
[Chorus 2X: Styles]
Hustle 'til the sun up (run up)
Keep comin 'til you come up (run up)
E'rybody keep your gun up (run up, run up, run up, run up, run up)

[Styles]
Run up you gon' die like the beeper call
Dawg this is Styles, I ain't Nas but I "Ether" y'all
You should hide when you see that ride creep along
Cause it's on when the doors open - shut his lights out
He got his mans, but I'm fuckin get 'em all coffins
Lil' niggaz is now mine they swallow the barrel find it
Bet that'll open 'em up (I bet)
And they all act tough, 'til you pokin 'em up
Nigga - run up like you came for a marathon
Body's in the suitcase, head's in the carry-on (ha ha)
You food to a real nigga, rude with the steel nigga
Give a fuck; you shoulda chilled nigga (you shoulda chilled)
All I know is puttin in work
Get the new M-5, nigga put in the work
Crack a vanilla dutch, nigga put in the earth
Run up I keep the gun up, get put in the earth - what?

[Chorus]

[Sheek Louch]
M-6 revvin, all black on the cell phone
And all that like I'm talkin to Devon (Knight Rider)
Shorty wanna hang out of the car (uh-huh)
Yellin out money ain't a thang, holdin up a mayonnaise jar
of that stick-ickalous, ridiculous
Comin down Harlem, foggin up the whole St. Nickalous (yeah)
Red monkies on them pretty things
Wipin off ash, showin Scado my Diddy things
Pay attention (yeah) gon' miss if I squench in
Just us bein there is causin tension
No beef, no wreath nece', it get real messy
Pull a rifle on you boys like Uncle Jesse
I'm Sheek baby girl, one third of the LOX
Put you in the mink and out of the fox
Added a Honda into the box
Earring holes is stretched from the size of the rocks
Let's go

[Chorus]

(feat. Redman)

[Redman]
Mic check, mic check (mic check mic check one two)
One two, one two check mic (yeah)
Gilla House, D-Block baby (can y'all hear me out there?)
Yo, hey yo

[Chorus 2X: Sheek and Redman]
Get up, stand up - throw your hands up
All my thug niggaz throw your motherfuckin hands up
Get up, stand up - throw your hands up
All y'all pretty bitches throw your motherfuckin hands up

[Sheek Louch]
Hey yo, I got a letter from the governor, the other day
I opened, I read it, and this is what it say
It's time for you to get yo' stack right
The bitch don't act right, whatever put that bitch on the next flight
Whatever nigga step in your way, hit his ass with the K
And leave his body where his children'll play
LyricsI cook somethin up like Emeril's kitchen
I put the heat to these rap dudes, whatever let me know who's bitchin
And your security as pussy as you are
The burners come out, his big ass be the first to the car
I got goons that'll make it spark, and I don't gotta throw a blow
Niggaz ready to stage dive like they Linkin Park
The hood love a nigga cause I ain't above a nigga
I eat the same shit in the hood as another nigga
White tee, pants saggin, ready to mug a nigga
Get the hell up out your seats and everybody jump

[Chorus]

[Redman]
Yo - yo Sheek lemme get some of that, yo
Aiyyo my uzi weigh a ton, Redman half baked
I'm smokin pounds, you hang around with Nasty Nate
The great dane straight change, bitches close drapes
Cause my product, Ultramagnetic like Kool Keith
This for my hood niggaz sellin sticky by the sto'
I rip your hottest MC like eenie mynie moe
Fuck dough I do it for fun, "Juice" like Bishop
"American Pie" nigga, hit your momma like Stiffler
Redman and Sheek Louch, you got a brief clue
Who will tie you up like E did to P in "Beef Two"
I cheat dude, give me a Maybach to breathe
So I'm determined, like AJ after Free
I don't play games I'm grown, on 26 chrome
Inside of my truck is ESPN Zone
Shame on a nigga, that try to run game on a nigga
I bring pain on a nigga

[Chorus]

[Sheek Louch]
Hey yo fuck that nigga, buck that nigga
Chase him to the roof, somebody cut that nigga
Pushed 1100, one wheel up (c'mon Sheek)
Lil' entrepeneur; shit, I'm already one deal up (D-Block)
Grants to a bird - okay, I ain't sell a lot
But shit Jigga ain't go platinum 'til his third
I'm one song away, but you would think I did
How the house got that long ass drive-a-way
Benz in the back, doors do Karate Kid
If they knew I get the same time Gotti did
240 when it's floored, trey pound on my lap
Beyonce bobblehead on the dashboard
Can't be ignored, I'm the coke niggaz can't afford
I'm the town niggaz haven't toured
I got a dutch or two, we can smoke a few
But first this is what y'all motherfuckers gotta do

[Chorus]

[Redman]
Yeah, Brick City, all the way to Yonkers baby
We got Yonkers goin bonkers baby!
We got Yonkers goin bonkers baby!
Yo Funk Doc, Sheek Louch, you know what it is baby
Gilla House, D-Block!

[Girl singing]
What do we do
Ooooooh - what do we do, what do we do
Pressure, pressure - what do we do to do

[Sheek Louch]
Let's go
They say they want me to chill
How you rappin is like you sayin to go out and kill
I hear so much of this nonsense
Like brother you a role model, you supposed to rap like you concious
(For what?) Even if that was true, understand
I'm a man before anything, rap is what I do
And I'm somebody's father
Like if my baby boy in a jam I won't grab the revolver
Sometimes not even that
I ain't sittin around talkin 'bout slavery is holdin me back
Out East you would think this the Western
I don't mean to be rude, but you can chill with all those silly suggestions
When the pressure is on, your morals is gone
Can't believe your face is torn (oh!)
LyricsI don't condone it, but I'm willin to loan it
Just relax, go home, hit me up on the horn, got you

[Chorus: girl singing]
For this life... piece of mind
The streets are filled with priiiide
Too young to die, so the bullets fly
The streets are filled with priiiide - pressure, pressure

[Sheek Louch]
I know she tryin to be cool for her friends
I know he tryin to front for her in the Benz (yeah)
But he ain't watchin where he drivin and drunk (uh-uh)
Hit somebody whip and dude talkin 'bout poppin the trunk
But can't go out like a punk (nah)
Shots go off, and his friends no longer think that he's soft (brrap)
Now it's time for the bail
And momma got a slight heart problem cause her son is in jail (damn)
And no one's keepin it real (uh-uh)
The lawyers is riffin, block phone calls, messages skippin
And shorty don't even visit
She too busy in the mall with your re-up money, tryin to live it
When he come out shit he flipped
Cause his son is in the backseat with some other nigga pushin his whip
(That's my son) This kind of pressure for real
Got at least like 6 out of 10 blacks sittin in jail, damn

[Chorus]

[Sheek Louch]
This brother comin from work (yeah)
9 to 5, minimum wage, his boss is a jerk
He can't stand bein broke (uh-uh)
He get off the bus to get him a beer and somethin to smoke
He think about gettin coke
His family is hungry, it's dead real, no longer a joke
But he ain't made for the streets
This ain't back then, these lil' dudes now carryin heat
Think he can pump where he want, it's the first of the month
Makin mad sales right in the front (what?)
Duke and them gettin mad (yo whattup?) things startin to get bad
'Bout to follow homey home to his pad (him right there)
But he can't let that ride
He pull out the thing and tell his baby momma go in and hide
(Get the baby in the house) So many put on a stretcher
I'm willin to bet'cha, it's the pressure, c'mon

[Chorus]

[girl singing]
The streets are filled with priiiiide

(feat. Ghostface Killah)

Naw I say uh oh, uh oh, uh oh

[Sheek Louch]
Aced out yached out not givin a fruck
West side highway doin over a buck
Broad day its like Curtis May shotgun wit me
White airs, blue jeans this the top of dickie
I ain't picky, some sticky in the bitch to roll it
Phat ass Lui or Gucci or work to hold it
50 thousand big heads kind of hard to fold it
And I don't need needle or threat to say I sold it
Big money, big guns and all that stuff
Black brief case, one wrist handcuff
You get you man snuffed
Fuck 'em like G-O-D
Got that white boy sellin like pOD
And I ain't tryin to sun ya'll
Or some tough guy shit I just ain't scared to none ya'll
Run ya'll
LyricsTen years strong, you one year weak
Ya'll ain't fuckin wit Sheek
Bark at the frawg

[Chorus: Ghostface Killah & Sheek Louch]
Yo Sheek---> Ghostface Killah
Wuttup nigga---> Sheek Louch
Show these mothafuckers yea the retail price---> Ghostface Killah
That cost to get they face blowned off---> Ghostface Killah
200 bean if that---> Ghostface Killah
cuz is no lost 'em---> Sheek Louch
Niggaz don't give a fuck if you come up short, naw---> Sheek Louch
You fuckin wit gangsta---> Ghostface Killah
Architecture niggaz that pain all loosely---> Sheek Louch
Twist you back like we just twist the top of coolie, at the Oscars---> Ghostface Killah
Jane all doogie---> Sheek Louch
Stick up kids is the name of our movie, nigga---> Ghostface Killah

[Ghostface Killah]
Yo I get married in crutch Velvet
Diamond chip shit that'll squash elders
You know the steez when I come through steamin my stones
Through on eight floor studed it out cleanin my chrome
I disinfect niggaz, wash 'em, rinse 'em and hang dry 'em
Bang iron, to all top is pro-long cuz it takes science
No larceny, murder experts in the feds, yo they on to me
Like I murdered Vonny, me and Sheek Louch
we can regroup, we can recoupe
We eat leak soup, speed race across country in the mean coupe
We got whips and big chains at the day back routes
Enron money, they say we goin down on tax invasion
Tellin cops if they try to cuff us the max is sprayin
Finally the head in they hats where they badge is layin
On the floor right along where their colleague is prayin
Nigga, this is Theodore and D-Block
Fuck 'round and get your meat chopped

[Chorus: Ghostface Killah & Sheek Louch]

[Sheek Louch]
Ease back, whats that all about, huh?
I dare ya'll niggaz tryin to play Sheek Louch out
Like I don't find talent like a Yankees Scout
Like I ain't still got it when papi on the drought
The hood got swear tryin to be circle
I don't give a fuck I'll leave a bunch dead Urkels
I don't pillow talk, I'll tell a hoe what she need to know
I don't care if she thicker than pizza dough, I'm out standin
I ain't even landin in the same place I use to when I come down high
I wake up wit two bitches in between my thigh
And I ain't hollywood or rich, bitch I ain't Mcky
I just mad at tellin a good ass lie
Yo, nuttin 'bout me soft, I don't care if you got cake
whateva, go'head go on brush you shoulders off
I be in the hood, Sheek Louch good

[Chorus: Ghostface Killah & Sheek Louch]

[No lyrics]

{*Sighing*} Yo let me get a cigarette son
Yeah, fuck it, {?} it's not that serious
Hey yo

[Chorus]
She said she all fed up
And she talk about she lea-vin (aiyyo calm down)
Said she won't, be back
'Til we get e-ven (what'chu mean get even)
Said she gon' take, my kids
To her momma's for the wee-kend (yeah aight)
I know she try to be there for me
It's fucked up I got caught cheat-in

[Sheek Louch]
Aiyyo, I ain't gon' lie, I got weeded all drunk and I cheated
After the club, shorty gave me what I needed (yeah)
That freaky side in the back of a ride
In the back of the park, where we used to hide (oh)
First it was a fling cause I kept her in the wing
She knew I had a wife cause I kept her on my ring
LyricsBut she ain't even care, she just wanted to be down
And come around the lab when I lay a song down (right on mami)
And even when I seen her with my lady
She'll walk by, I'll walk by, no actin shady
No prank calls, no baby momma brawls (none of that)
Real grown lady like, up in the malls
This whole thing is like way too good
You almost never catch a shorty like that up in the hood (uh-uh)
So I kept it on the hush (yeah) brought me a bat line
And called shorty up when it was time to crush

[Chorus] w/ slightly different ad libs

[Sheek Louch]
Aiyyo - couple of Louis bags, the kind that J-Lo has
Could be just lookin at the picture, she don't gotta ask
(You want that right there?)
I like to spend the cash, she like to throw that ass (turn around ma)
I remember when she first flew first class (calm down)
I let her push the whip in, until she started flippin
Axin me am I messin with some other chicken
I'm like "WHOA, baby NO NO NO"
This ain't gon' start (uh-uh) and please be smart
You know I got a girl, what'chu care what I do
She like "Fuck you Sheek, whatever, we through" (whatever)
Next day she drivin by, smilin and wavin hi
Right in front of my house, what this bitch wanna die?

[Chorus] w/ slightly different ad libs

[Sheek Louch]
Hey yo, yo, I never thought it would go down like this
This bitch got my baby momma suspicious
My door ringin while she doin the dishes
A dozen roses with a note sayin "kiss"
Wait 'til I see this witch
She got me on the couch like a muh'fuckin slouch, I'ma kill this bitch
I'm on AllNightParties dot com
Son lookin at like that's not mom!

[Chorus] w/ slightly different ad libs

[Sheek Louch]
I never thought it would go down like this
Bitch got my baby momma suspicious

(feat. Jadakiss)

[Jada] It's the dance step, it's the BOUNCE!
[S.L.] Gotta make sure I don't spill my drink on this
[Jada] Ha ha ha ha! It's the swagger
G's up homey

[Chorus: Jadakiss]
I'ma get money, get money
I don't care if your peoples act funny
I'ma go loco, straight loco
Aiyyo mamis pass the trey-ocho
Cause we do it, straight do it
You coulda came with us ma but you blew it
Make it hot boo, bring your friend too
And drop it like you supposed to, ah-HA!

[Sheek Louch]
You know what this is lil' momma
You could walk around with the top of a pajama
Boxers on, pillow case over the llama
LyricsDrama; I deal with more weed than a farmer
Point blank, dot dot, period, comma
(Yeah) So gritty, but still so pretty
Broke and I get as much pussy as Diddy
Ante up, catty all candied up
I'm on ice like I just won the Stanley Cup
Yup! Stay booted up, a little 'gnac in the cup
About to score, the homey had to shoot it up
(Yeah) 23's, low pros on top of a flatbed
(Ha ha) Niggaz think I just got towed - nope!
To the car show, Murciélago
Hammer in the cargo - what's my name? (Sheek Louch!)
Sheek Louch that boy there 'bout to change the game

[Chorus]

[Sheek Louch]
Aiyyo; I ain't gon' lie, it's a lot of things I can't buy
But if I really want it bad (yeah) and really get mad (yeah)
I'ma grab the strap like a muh'fuckin dad
To get what I want, if it take me a month
And pitch my lil' pieces right in the front
Smoke my blunt, and drink my 'gnac
And watch my back like I'm under attack (woo!)
A lot of people think I don't like their ass
Guess what? (Guess what?) I really don't like their ass
And won't hesitate to put somethin in you fast (let's go)
So you can go 'head with that bullcrap
Cause I don't mean rhymes when I say I ain't afraid of a murder rap

[Chorus]

[Sheek Louch]
Aiyyo - she said she love my flow, and the things that I say
And how the rest of my crew is so caliente
You D-Block boys really know how to play (D-Block!)
When the next LOX album, I'm just waitin for the day
Look Range, Bent' Coupe, house, indoor hoop
Chain got enough karats to put in grandma soup
I ain't in the loop, I'm nowhere near you
I'm in the hood dawg where them peoples scare you

[Chorus]

(feat. Styles)

[Intro]
D-Block, D-Block, D-Block, D-Block
D-Block, D-Block, D-Block, D-Block
D-Block, D-Block, D-Block, D-Block
Ohh shit! (let's go)

[Chorus: Sheek Louch]
You can kiss yo' ass goodbye (D-Block, D-Block, D-Block, D-Block)
La-da-da, da-da-daaaah (D-Block, D-Block, D-Block, D-Block)
You can kiss yo' ass goodbye (D-Block, D-Block, D-Block, D-Block)
La-da-da, da-da-daaaah

[Sheek Louch]
Aiyyo, this that shit that make niggaz wanna rep they clique (uh-huh)
Grab their gun and diss niggaz to their dick
Buck somethin, go somewhere and fuck somethin (fuck somethin)
Like that frontin nigga bitch, make her suck somethin (suck somethin)
Wild out, D-Block shirt inside out
Hoodie on with the all black Belushis on
LyricsNiggaz yappin 'til they muh-fuckin face is torn (uh-huh)
Tongue is gone (what else) three-piece suits is worn
Hit y'all faggot-ass niggaz that's scared to death
Talk shit, when I'm around y'all hold y'all breath (whattup Sheek?)
I make murder music, my shit bang in the city
But they want me to chill since Janet showed titty
(It's too much violence now since Ja ruined 50)
I don't know no other way but to rap gritty (yeah!)
Fuck that baby when I'm rich
Until then where the fuck is my thugs at up in this bitch? (let's go)

[Chorus]

[Styles]
Whattup nigga, you cut up nigga (whattup)
Shoot shit to lift the truck up nigga (wooooooooo)
D-Block, D-Block howl like a wolf
Tell your mom I throw a child off the roof
Give a basshead a hundred dollars to towel off the Coupe (clean that up)
Style on niggaz; beat somethin down
we gon' pile on niggaz (get 'em) wild on niggaz
{La-da-da, da-da-daaaah} That's a lullaby for you (hear it?)
Better ask your man he ready to die for you (you ready?)
We comin through tearin the block up (tear it up)
We ain't gettin locked up (uh-uh) that mean we even shootin the cops up
Whattup? (Yeah nigga, two mo' times)
Whattup, whattup? Now we in the New York rhyme
Better kiss that ass goodbye, when I'm passin by
with plastic nines to blast your eyes, right
What, nigga?

[Chorus]

[Sheek Louch]
Aiyyo, I talk shit how I wanna talk, bop how I wanna walk
And you can tell that nigga dere is from New York
And I still got my South niggaz ready to squeeze
I don't need cake to see me with a couple of G's (let's go)
And I don't need a loan, muh'fucker I'm grown
Had a thirty-eight before I had a phone
I stuck niggaz up before y'all lil' niggaz started to bone
This that Sheek Louch shit y'all niggaz tryin to clone
Let's be real, the average muh'fucker with a deal
probably never had a fight (nah) no guns, none of that
Niggaz know I'm right (yeah) I say goodnight to my son
Give my baby moms a lil' cake
And my moms a lil' somethin 'fore I go on the run
Before pussy niggaz try their hand
I'll kick in the door like "Daddy's Home" and I ain't "Making the Band"
What y'all coward niggaz don't understand? (YEAH!)

[Chorus]

[Sheek] You can kiss yo' ass goodbye...