What up Sigel?
Huh? Yeah
Smash, scrape, scrape... You know the game baby

[Chorus:]

Beanie Mac and Memphis
Who the fuck want what
Me and Bleek charmed up, with your town under siege
Diligent in the sleeve
Who the fuck want what
Me and Beans charmed up , got you niggas arms up
My squad be armed up

This one's for the dogs with the 4-4 long
You niggas bust shots but you throw yours wrong (yeah)
Peep game, niggas leaves stain when it rain
Dipped and won't dry we thugs we won't cry

A yo you know how we play dog, smash and scrape
Pull them real tools out they won't blast them eights
Trust me they start telling who blast the weight
Bleek a three time felon I'm pass the case

You bout to witness a dynasty like no other
Who flow like Bleek, think, no other
Who rhyme like Sigel, dog, no other
It's Roc-a-Fella twins desert eagle no other

A yo we outshining niggas, two of the finest niggas
Got niggas like damn where'd Jay find them niggas
Rock blocked diamonds niggas, then blind you niggas
You know it's Cru Love, just thought we'd remind you niggas

Who the fuck want what
Who the fuck want what
Who the fuck want what
Who the fuck want what
Who the fuck want what
Who want what
Who the fuck want what
Beans and Bleek, Roc baby, don't stop

A yo I ride with the top down , high with the glock now
War it don't stop now, Memph man hot now
Niggas didn't want that I'm still where you pump at
B. Sigel, M. Bleek, niggas can't front that

A yo nigga who want that, not a soul
First week, no video, went gold
Bases loaded, now I'm up to bat
Witness the truth, niggas can't fuck with that

Fuck those who disagree like these streets ain't mine
Like the Roc don't mean something, glock won't lean something

A yo like I won't pop up in fifty shot machine something
Hit you from a half a block, infrared beam something
Niggas don't want it with Mac, trust me
Niggas want to chill, roll up, and get blunted with Mac

A yo we swerve out, blowing herb out, you herb out
My bout it squad, niggas get rowdy and rob

A yo you heard the title nigga, who the fuck want what
My bullets you get em free who the fuck want one

A yo I still throw 4, 5, 6, upset rookies
Set up shop and flushing, who you can't touch him

I'm still on two birds, two blunts, too hurt
Two of the biggest guns put two in your shirt

You can still get two to your chest
I'll show what a thug about and let them slugs spit out

I'm that same cat all black crack in my palm
Hop off the B. Franklin with gats in my palm

Yo I still spit a thousand bars, still roam the reservoir with dogs
I still wire your jaw

And yeah I smoke weed, I don't give a you know
Pop up on your block and hit it up in the Hugo

To the streets all over, we spot you niggas
Put your feet up Hova, we got you nigga

Writer : COX, MALIK / GRANT, DWIGHT / SMITH, JUSTIN
Copyright : Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., WINDSWEPT HOLDINGS LLC