[Sheek]
Uh, yo, yo
Hey Yo it's fucked up, in the right hand
Flash his badge with his left hand
On some Donnie Brascoe shit, forget about it
Made men, should hang with made men
Not the wife and children, that's when rats come in
It be your girl in the palor, talking like shit rich
And next to her, getting her nails done is your enemy's bitch
Now you stuck, 'cause she in there, leeking, speaking
Not knowing, she being, followed, on the decan
Niggas talk to feds like, it's a sport
Lord forbid the head nigga get caught
And watch the whole family tree break down, faster than you thought
I watch the nigga with my own eyes get knocked, no doubt
Next week he outside front, how he get out?
Now that's guapo nigga? his family talk?
Mexico for safety you get twist for that sammy shit
Thinking you threw with the feds and all that
That's when they got you, just like that kid from Strapped
I stay, clear to mubblers who mubble to the cops
Brick fumblers who just want a nigga popped
But the only thing I pop is my burners in the dark

[Chorus: x2]
Yo it's like that y'all (that y'all) Time to stack ya'll (stack ya'll)
Nowadays everybody want to rat y'all (wanna rat y'all)
And it don't even matter where you at y'all (where you at y'all)
When the feds come and get you that's that y'all (that's that y'all)

[Styles]
Fake lieuteno, on a sing, make a demo
Switch up ya ammo, fill out the memo
Now you got the dogs locked up in the kennel
Rat, talking to the cops like that
On a 3-4 P you can't cop like that
You ain't have a chance, fly from Japan
Talk to the judge, get you out the can
My man had the same case (that's my word)
Spent three years in the same place, He still there
Came down for a pill, it was still real there
Money came between us, know you seen us
Move like the teamsters in the beamers
Get blacked down and hit the cleaners
The feds know everything, who bled and everything
Before we got red, honeys giving us head
Herion and guns is on the files of Styles
But they came in the crib, lifting the towel
Heard the sergent scream out "start stripping the child"
And they blew down the door ? snitching involved
Wonder who? A boss, or a nigga under you
Probably figure it out, when you sit for one or two
Six months in bail, is how you catch a snail
Moving real slow, trying to steal dough

[Chorus: x2]

[Jadakiss]
Lies to the story, mines yours and the truth
What you talk for? They ain't even had no proof
But you play this street business, all in the street
To visit him now, you gotta drive for a week
What you expect? Messing with the guard so tough
Fuck calling his bluff, they made him put his cards up
Your hands, wrists, and neck was rocked up
Now 23 hours a day you locked up
Your girl, she out in the world, knocked up
By some cat you supposed that shot up
Man enough to eat steak wit em, get cake em
But you scared to go upstate wit em
Where you going, you won't get good sleep no more
See the street no more, or skeet no more
Ride around in the P, with the heat no more
From top to not even on your feet no more
'Fore they gave ya any time, you spoke your mind
Since they giving out jerseys, get on line
For your football numbers, want to take us all under
What happened to shorty? They gave him tall numbers
I don't think so, I don't think so either
But he told em every thing he knew and made em hit the ?

[Chorus]

Writer : JACOBS, SEAN D/PHILLIPS, JASON T/STYLES, DAVID
Copyright : Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing