[Freeway] Man if I get rocked, this shit for my kids nigga Its that real shit... (female singer, repeated throughout the verses) *Even though what we do is wrong...* We still hustle til the sun come up Crack a 40 when the sun go down Its a cold winter Yall niggaz better bundle up And I bet it be a hotter summer, grab a onion Yes the ROC gets down, you hot now, listen up Dont you know cops whole purpose is to lock us down? And throw away the key But without this drug shit your kids aint got no way to eat, huh? We still try to keep Mom...smilin... Cuz when the teeth stop showin and the stomach start growlin Then the heat start flowin If you from the hood I know you feel me (Jay-Z: Keep goin...) If a sneak start leanin and the heat stop workin Then my heat start workin Im-a rob me a person Catch a nigga sleepin while he out in the open...and Im-a get him (Jay-Z: Keep flowin...) We gotta raise our kids while we livin Make a million off-a record bail my niggaz outta prison Fuck a Bentley or a Lexus just my boys in the squadder Nigga talk reckless then I hit em with the Smif n... But Im never snitchin Im a rider If my kids hungry snatch the dishes out ya kitchen Ill be wylin til they pick me outta line-up... We keep the nines tucked, chopped dimes up, rap about it Wyle out, fuck niggaz up, laugh about it Im not tryin to visit the morgue but Freeway move out til I sit with the Lord Til I...get my shit together, clean up my sins Freeway got it in like 10 in the mornin And I can get it to ya like 10 while you yawnin mang... Still deliver the order mang! And I aint talkin bout chicken and gravy mang! Im talkin bout bricks o ye-yo, halves and quarters 4 and a halves of hash you do the math Swing past us scoop up your daughter She wanna roll wit a thug that rap, you do the math He wont blast til my stacks in order mang! [Jay-Z] ...MANG! Lemme get em Free Hove never slackin mang, zippin in the black Range Faster than the red ghost, gettin ghost wit Pac-Mang One-time know a got a knack to get that change Leader of the black gang, R-O-C mang Bang like T-Mac, ski mask air it out Gotta kill witnesses cause Frees beards stickin out Yall dont want no witness shit, we squeeze hammers mang Bullets breeze by you, like Lousiana mang... But I gotta feed Tianna mang... So I move keys you can call me the Piano Man Rain...sleet, hail...snow man Slang dough, E, hydro man... [Beanie Sigel] ...no, B. Sige in the third lane Gramps still prayin workin on my nerves man... Like, "Son you gotta get your soul clean... Before they blow them horns like Coltrane..." But still I cry tears of a hustler Wipe tears from my mother, pull out beers for her brothers... Thats above us, make beds for the babies Tuck kids under covers, buy cribs for their mothers Shit Ill probably be wylin with their fathers Tell Ms. Robert, tell Enijah that Im ridin for her father Thats like my brother, like same mother different father Any problems dog know I got em And still we grind from the bottom Just to make it to the bottom sold crack in the alleyways Still gave back Marcy a Dollar Day Real gangstas make hood holidays They aint thank us but we still paid homage mang Soul Food Sunday lookin like Big Mommas mang Tell the gang I never break my promise mang...mang...unnh!
Artist: Freeway f/Beanie Sigel & Jay-z
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