Guess Who-Various Artists

Guess Who - Various Talk to me, man This ya boy Young Hova, yo turn the f**kin' noise up We'll get right into the proceedings this evenin' Headphones are distortin', bring it down a little' bit Okay, now we workin' wit' it The boy Face on the baseline, Face Mob Welcome to New York City It's ya boy Young Hov' chea Kanye West on the track Chi-Town, what's goin' on now? Can I talk to y'all for a minute? Let me talk to y'all for a minute Just gimme a minute of ya time, baby I don't want much Let me talk to these muh'f**kas Guess who's bizack? You still smellin' crack in my clothes Don't make me have to relapse on these hoes Take it back out to taxin' them roads When I was huggin' it, niggaz couldn't do nuttin' wit' it Straight from the oven wit it, came from the dirt I emerged from it all without a stain on my shirt You could blame my old earth, for the sh*t she instilled in me Still with me, pain plus work She made me milk this game for all it's worth, that's right These niggaz can't f**k with me, I'm callin' guts every time Drag my nuts every time Homey, we make a great combination, don't we? Me and the Face Mob, every time we face-off Face i,t y'all, y'all niggaz playin' basic ball I'm on the block like I'm eight feet tall Homey, I'm in the drop with the AC on That's why the streets embrace me, dawg, I'm so cool Guess who's bizack? Back on the block with the old Face Mob Mack Mittens and Hov' Don't make me relapse Back to the block with the fo' 'Cause this street is all I know From the womb to the tomb, a hot pot of joy and a spoon Tryna make me forty thousand and move Motels, star-studded, rock stars and goons Plain clothes wanna run in my room But ni**a guess who's bizack? It's ya boy Face Mob Started with an eightball, gotta get this cake ,dawg Give niggaz a break, nah, you know how the game go F**k you, think I slang fo', to go against the grain I'm out here to grind mo', rapped up in the paper chase I wanna f**k a fine hoe and candy paint the 88 Don't got no wholesale, 'cause that ain't how I wanna run it Here, take these five stones and bring a ni**a back a hundred Gotta see my feet, dude, you do sh*t a fiend do The fire get too hot in the kitchen, I hit the streets fool Money is an issue and that's on the fa' shizzle my nizzle Ya block warm, then I come by with the fizzle And make fa' sho' I get to work mines, for part of the time We go to war and you ain't makin' a dime 'Cause I got sh*t to lose, a ni**a out here payin' his dues My baby walkin' gotta get him some shoes It's a new game doin', let me give ya the rules Get out of line and I'm a give ya the blues It's a new game doin', let me give ya the rules Get out of line and I'ma give ya the blues Guess who's bizack? The boy B. Mizack, A.K.A. Mr. Crack-A-Brick Turn a whole one from a half a brick, look I mastered this You can smell it once the plastic rips A hot plate will make ya swell up if ya gasket clicked You can make ya chips swell up, ya don't hafta pitch Play them corners like a safety, watch the traffic switch Young and never pump fake, and you'll get past the blitz And keep ya whole hood on flip, like on box-spring Pissy Mack and sh*t, low old box of things Strictly glassy sh*t, I hug the block like a quart of water Sh*t, I used to hug a corner like a old deuce and a quarter Till like deuce in the mornin', with the old heads Slangin' loose quarters, this Philly cat back gatted Still f**kin' with them crack addicts, still bustin' with that black-magic Guess who's bizack? Back on the block with the old Face Mob Mack Mittens and Hov' Don't make me relapse Back to the block with the fo' 'Cause this street is all I know