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| The Lox Miscellaneous Who Did You Expect [Jadakiss] Yo even if I just cooked up, if money's comin give you it moist And don't be scared to die, I aint give you a choice Niggas'll try to kill you cuz of what they think you got And the ambulance'll take longer if they think you shot Nigga fuck the bullshit, Kiss keep a full clip In front of the store rockin gauze in the woolrich Blowin sticky green grass, that'll sit me on my ass Wit a mean sports coupe with 160 on the dash So what I got a Rollie, and it got alotta ice I pull my gun out, and bet I get another one tonight Your brother died, bet your mother lose another son tonight I'm clever, only time we party, when we beat a body Or when they free Gotti, so that means never To my niggas in they cell wit a hour of rec Or K.L., for beatin a coward to death I feel y'all, so feel me, even if y'all guilty Time y'all niggas come home, the god'll be filthy Even though by then these faggots probably be done killed me I tell my son, keep it real, give y'all niggas each a bill So what's the deal, niggas y'all know the deal, uh CHORUS: Jadakiss Who did you expect, what, L O X to the death And we go hard dog, everytime, nothing less Catch us at the dice game, blowin a thou Never go in to trial, coppin out, holdin it down We could get it on, any way shape or form Any day of the week, Styles, Jada, and Sheek It aint hot 'less we are niggas we are the heat *We Are The Streets* and we makin it hard to eat [Sheek] Ayo, you say fuck me, I feel the same way about you bitch Niggas made you rich and now you act like this Who them thuggest niggas on your team, guns to the triple beam Without rap my nickles gleam, drug money make it seem Fast, niggas puff hydro and hash like it's nicotine Fake niggas, rid o theem, who flip from wealth You want space, I give your whole hospital room to yourself I got doctors who make housecalls when niggas get hit That way the press and the cops run shit, feel me kid When it comes to thuggin it, nigga that's my sport I even pick up your shells so you won't get caught Dumb dumbs, niggas camouflaged playin as bums Pop up, shoot through the liquor bottle, straighten your lungs Take the bum clothes off, buy a paper at the newsstand Walk by me, scream out, "Somebody help this man" Not even life insurance helpin your fam, I'm takin that I'm from Yonkers motherfucker, where the murderers at Murderous gat, we bloodline no cur in our pack You owe us dough, have it as that, I leave it at that, faggots CHORUS [Styles] Spittin to live, two bullets hittin your ribs You christen your kids, I let my son listen to B.I.G. I won't stop til a thousand niggas fit in my crib I won't be happy til my last nigga finish his bid All on the top, yeah you could ball in a drop I'd rather, ball in a yacht, no callin the cops In the middle of the ocean, lettin my nine pop Givin a dime cock, blowin away Baggin the yae, tryin to get a wagon a day Pick up a quarter, and still throw my chain in the water Watch on the floor, bitch I'll put my glock in your jaw Niggas think they own a label, just signed a deal You poppin that bullshit they might find you killed Slum throwin the highway, behind the wheel Or you could do it my way, relax and chill You could worship SP sell cracks and peels Bitch I smack your mouth while you smoke in the field Run up in your house, then alarmin your grill Drama for real, you never seen honor and will Til you wake up in the mornin and your mama is killed CHORUS |
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