Currently Listening Official Best Of Lloyd Banks Vol. 1 DJ Famous and Lloyd Banks see related

Since I dun get much publicity on this xanga and not alotta attention i aint finna update til i get a buncha comments like 50 or sumthin.

"Best Shot"
Buddy feat. Mystery

*Buddy*

Growing up was tough without a positive role-model

Had to teach myself to grab the heater and load-hollows

But I found the heater beneath my chin hoping I’d be seeing-light

Overdosed on oxy mom found me and I wasn’t breathing-right

Vowed to make it out of the gutter so I started cooking crack-in-the-kitchen

I was rolling smooth selling dimes and rocks but I was lacking-a-vision

But that all changed when I met Big E and he spit-me-his-flow

He spit verses about hunger and how our cash was always fifty-below

The average wages and paycheck of an American living a modest-life

I tried spitting and still do but it took a while til I got-it-right

Big was doing shit with me and collabing spending a lot-of-time

Stepping up in the parking lot spitting a verse that was modeled-like

Only a true rap pro like Pac that can spit heavy-hits-in-the-game

I know many-wishing-the-fame but they’re only simply-getting-the-name

In their streets and forever eternity they will be a local-street-legend

But never move on to a major label and be a vocal-heat-presence

I know a good many men that have talent but missing-the-spark

That separates the fame from the average it’s a condition-that’s-harsh

So I’m a sit back and wonder when my time-will-arrive

So sit back and sing with me as my rhyme’s-still-alive

*Hook*

Step up to the plate and take ya best shot

Cause it may be the only fucking option you’ve got

Cause tomorrow brings shit that we cannot predict

You may be fallen from a bullet or in a deep-fix

So come on my true g’s take ya best shot and light-up

Make the spectators clap like you the champ of fight-club

I’m a say it a one more time if you don’t listen you invest-not

In the rap game and street cred coming with giving your best-shot

*Buddy*

I’m a give you one shot at the mic then there’s one shot-from-the-glock

Cause when you ain’t hot-on-the-block you get popped-round-the-spot

I’m so fly when it comes to giving my best shot at the opportune-moment

I hate wankstas and snitches two worlds that my scope locks-the-two-zones-in

Cause I’m pro mufucka my best-shot shows what’s ya chest’s-got

Shits gon be more graphic than a game from the x-box

Wait I heard you was thinking bout popping off well you best-not

I’ll follow you everywhere if I miss you I’ll just head to the next-spot

Mufucka I’m hood camoflagued and you can’t find me at all-hoe

Blend in so well I’m thinking bout changing my name to waldo

Last song I said the last sight I wana see is me ruling the world with my nine-locked

I’m a load my clip and give my best shot so the last thing you’ll see is the inside of a pine-box

I’m a boss dog flossing flashy with the Benjamin-franklins

Fake rappers ask me to write they lines but I’m lending-them-vacants

Sorry you gotta write your own shit to make-it-out-hoe

Hustle on the block or rob your neighbors-house-dough

I give it my best shot and eat every meal as thought-it’s-my-last

Dough-in-high-stacks because I roll-so-fly-past

*Hook*

Step up to the plate and take ya best shot

Cause it may be the only fucking option you’ve got

Cause tomorrow brings shit that we cannot predict

You may be fallen from a bullet or in a deep-fix

So come on my true g’s take ya best shot and light-up

Make the spectators clap like you the champ of fight-club

I’m a say it a one more time if you don’t listen you invest-not

In the rap game and street cred coming with giving your best-shot

*Mystery*

A true gangsta rolling a kush blunt and sipping tallboys from a Heineken-box

I remember when niggas wanted to fuck R&B divas and tried-ta-get-shot

Cause being a rap phenomenon was what many Americans-strived-for

But I’m hot and they hate that’s what I’m carryin-the-nine-for

If I only had one rap to spit three verses and sixteen-bars

It’d be the best hit ever spit flawless from a pristine-star

But I don’t need one hit I have the opportunity to drop a platinum-disk

If you wana do a song with Mystery you better ask-him-quick

Cause for a verse it’s gon cost like half-ya-mint

Every songs a hit I’m like Tom Cruise with that actin-shit

All I want is one opportunity for that mother fucking number-one-spot

There’s no response when I hit ya you won’t hear no other-gun-shots

These whack rappers texting shit trying to claim they throne-still

Nigga I got free texts from verizon I’m a be racking up ya phone-bill

See when I roll I got a crew with infrared beams on the macs-b

We gon cover yo face with red dots like a teen goin through acne

We in the chevy motha fucka understand we get the scopes and sit-and-spot

Red dots on ya face scratch the wrong way and you scarred like you scratched the red dot chicken-pox

Twenty two bars I just exceeded the typical amount of verses-I-produce

We so mufucking gangsta we got ice on the casket and we made herses-outta-coupes

Gimme ya best shot nigga

*Hook*

Step up to the plate and take ya best shot

Cause it may be the only fucking option you’ve got

Cause tomorrow brings shit that we cannot predict

You may be fallen from a bullet or in a deep-fix

So come on my true g’s take ya best shot and light-up

Make the spectators clap like you the champ of fight-club

I’m a say it a one more time if you don’t listen you invest-not

In the rap game and street cred coming with giving your best-shot

Currently Listening Cheers By Obie Trice see related

ay OGs alots been hapnin since i last updated. Me and Shad got the money for some time in the studio and we pushed out a hit. We been spittin shit on the computer mic too. Now that we coppin the bread for the studio we makin a label and shit. FCR (Full Clip Records) is the temporary name. Eerbody spittin under dat label be Mystery, Mayne of Steel, Lil Shadow, Underdawg, and King Colt. Mystery got his own lil sublabel Unknown records and Underdawg's spitting under that. We looking for a female rapper to so holla.

Don't Snitch

Buddy ft. Godfather Heat

*Buddy*

You a snitch in the streets you progressed-as­-a-bastard

You like ice cube you havin more success-as-an-actor (Whoo!)

You reading scripts for the cops to make a couple-g’s-in-court

But you when you step out of the law room the troubles-three-or-four

Dons at the steps of the court with they heaters-drawn

Cut through you quicker than Jose cuts senoritas-lawns (Damn b!)

If you dodge the bullets you’ll arrive at ya car and meet-a-don

Negotiate a bit if you refuse him then I guarantee defeat-is-on

You’ll see the pearly gates where you gon see saint peters-brawn

Either way you still a snitch so we’ll be at ya crib with wife beaters-on

And the macs drawn we boiling crack in the kitchen so we can feed-the-cons

And if you think my rhymes are lies then step up so you can see-the-songs

Played-out when me and Heat bring the k’s-out and then take-out

Your bitch for some lobster and prime cut at the steak-house

Keep talking shit you aint immortal like ya boy-thinks

Not even powerful men are immortal solo bullets destroy-kings (Uh-huh)

I’ll hit ya leg so then they know the boy as the snitch-with-a-limp

I’ll let ya bitch-get-a-glimpse after ya heads been hit and you slip-in-a-crimp (Get em Bud)

*Godfather Heat*

Nigga don’t snitch

*Buddy*

Cause all it’s gonna bring is drama and a chewed-rep

You more bitch than the inside of the mansion of hugh-hef

You a walkin punchin bag for OG’s who gon beat-your-body

Cause you like one of the narcs that snitched on Peter-Gotti

I’m telling you if you wana survive without feelin-pins-of-heat

Don’t snitch mufucka bout killin and dealin-in-the-streets

*Godfather Heat*

Nigga don’t snitch

*Buddy*

The last sight of a OG is dollars stacked across his pads-floor

The last sight of a snitch is an infared beam shinin through his glass-door

The last sight of an artist is his most acclaimed sole-mural

The last sight I plan on seein is me rulin the whole-world (Yeah!)

Speakin of sights what I see in tha scope is quite a sight-ta-see

Sniping on the rooftops in the Midwest is where you see the likes-of-me

Sippin goose and absolut and some bicardi zombie-a-bit

I’m a get loose when I shoot at the boy in Abercrombie-and-fitch

Not to down gangstas in Abercrombie and Fitch polo t-shirts

Here’s to the Hollister thuggas rollin round with street-worth

I don’t where many polos matter of fact I prefer to wear a camo-t

I’ll scare a damn-O-G when they see the gun in hand-homie

And when I aint wearin the camo I’ll throw on a black-hood-sweater

Hidden messages in my rap like Zeppelin with they back-words-letter (Bring em out)

Your bullshit is pissing me off and tying you in knots like the slinky-bring

Just appreciate my cred cause I even got the pope kissin my pinky-ring (Show em love)

Anybody that’s friends of a snitch is gon see the bastard-sleep-under-the-floor

Heat show em how you do it while I listen to banks masterpiece-hunger-for-more

*Godfather Heat*

Nigga don’t snitch

*Buddy*

Cause all it’s gonna bring is drama and a chewed-rep

You more bitch than the inside of the mansion of hugh-hef

You a walkin punchin bag for OG’s who gon beat-your-body

Cause you like one of the narcs that snitched on Peter-Gotti

I’m telling you if you wana survive without feelin-pins-of-heat

Don’t snitch mufucka bout killin and dealin-in-the-streets

*Godfather Heat*

Nigga don’t snitch

*Godfather Heat*

Nigga don’t snitch read the shirt and writin in the stop-sign

Niggas telling bout my cash because they hating that I got-mine

Me and Buddy used to beef but now we collabing-on-the-track

Cause nobody like a narc so we be stabbing-in-they-back

I’ll admit I ain’t as good as Buddy when it comes to rappin-flows

But me and him equivalent when it comes to stackin-dough

Some niggas snitch for they paper tell the police what they see

So we come at them with macs drawn and hook em up to IV’s

I don’t worry bout charisma set up or the amount of bars

I just worry bout the message that I’m trying to deliver far

I saw you talking to bacon bits yea you were talking to the pig-snitching

Askin thick-questions bout where heat and his homies get-weapons

You told him how I got dope and how my mac does wig-splittin

Nigga you next in line you better pray that my clip-stickin

You in court nigga givin false lies and false testimonies

That’s sixteen bars now I’m finna find a snitch and let the gat bless-his-homies

*Godfather Heat*

Nigga don’t snitch

*Buddy*

Cause all it’s gonna bring is drama and a chewed-rep

You more bitch than the inside of the mansion of hugh-hef

You a walkin punchin bag for OG’s who gon beat-your-body

Cause you like one of the narcs that snitched on Peter-Gotti

I’m telling you if you wana survive without feelin-pins-of-heat

Don’t snitch mufucka bout killin and dealin-in-the-streets

*Godfather Heat*

Nigga don’t snitch

Property Full Clip Records

Currently Listening Blood Money By Mobb Deep see related

Found two new rappers for our crew. so now ma clique consists of some aint with it no more some is:
Buddy- the creator of tha site and our rap squad
Dvon- reppin the midwest gettin his hustle on
Mystery aka the lyrical machine gun and the reason i am where i am
Lil Shad- one of my tightest homeboys reppin the midwest
Carter Black- spit a few songs with us with tite flow
Toni Chop- sick flows and style and hot punchlines
Rich P aka heavyweight flower with the hottest multis
Underdawg- new to tha crew spittin hot flows
Mayne of Steel- first latino rapper in our crew 25% black 75%puerto rican

Buddy ft. Mystery, Lil Shadow, & Underdawg
Introducing the Dawg

Currently Listening Searching For Jerry Garcia By Proof see related

*Buddy*

This one’s for Proof mayne we all pourin out liquor and sippin in yo memory

RIP homeboy

Hook *Mystery*

RIP Proof yea ma nigga hope heaven treats-ya-right

You tha last nigga that deserved to see-tha-light

So I’m a read a Jesus piece in your honor sippin hennesey

Then ill pour out the cristile for ma nigga R-I-P

*Mystery*

Never expected-it Proof died I said a couple blessins-shit

Who tha fuck would do that he was rising bout to drop a second-hit

They sayin the other nigga might be getting off on claims of self defense

Nigga he killed Proof lock him up and show no reverence

Give your respect and reverence to tha nigga who’s life was claimed

Show ya respect to Proof give him a moment of silence mayne

Silence

Hear the sound nigga that’s the pourin of yak in ma cup

Raise the purple haze for Proof nigga put that haze up

I sat in disbelief when the news reached ma eardrums

One of my favorite rappers murdered nigga now tears-come

No fear-comes the sheer-hum of niggas showin more than mere-love

But a full sweep of heart to heart shit God we lost a dear-one

Sadness does sweep me though cause he inspired me to write

Sparked my desire to write despite the obstacles in my sight

His multis inspired me to try and spit with set up and a purpose

But now im trying to avert-this but proof got shot so now I’m word-less

Hook *Mystery*

RIP Proof yea ma nigga hope heaven treats-ya-right

You tha last nigga that deserved to see-tha-light

So I’m a read a Jesus piece in your honor sippin hennesey

Then ill pour out the cristile for ma nigga R-I-P

*Mystery*

Say hi to ma mom pops pac biggie and left eye nigga

Like Jada I ask why-nigga did you hafta die-nigga

God shouldve take someone who didn’t have a right to be alive

But god has a plan for all of us I hope you sippin yak at his right side

I never shouted you out enough and now I’m regretful for that

Cause you inspired many multis I pushed out in ma raps

I hope eerythangs ight with Detroit 12, em, and ya family

Makin me sad-b all these rappers droppin cops don’t give a dam-g

Mayne im sorry for the bastard that shot you cause they kno its on

Im blowin-chron sippin cris listenin to a soldiers-song

Twelve bars nigga I pay my respect and ma dues

The thirteenth bar is a moment of silent for you

*Silence*

Hook *Mystery*

RIP Proof yea ma nigga hope heaven treats-ya-right

You tha last nigga that deserved to see-tha-light

So I’m a read a Jesus piece in your honor sippin hennesey

Then ill pour out the cristile for ma nigga R-I-P

*Buddy*

Rest in peace Proof say hi to Big E and makavelli

Im a roll up the dro in a kush blunt and spit acapella

Music stopped silence a moment to mourn for those hit by the 11

Proof, Jam Master Jay, Eazy and all ma other OG’s in heaven

It rained when Proof died mayne the angels letting tears run

A prayer goes out to Venus Shakur and all those who lost dear ones

Our father who art in heaven please hear me out when I say this prayer

Protect my mother from the violence and Proofs family from despair

Cause I’m spittin this verse and sayin a simple blessin

Proof was a tight rapper beloved by fans now we distressin

He didn’t even hit his prime cause some faggot put him to sleep

Em get D12 and bury the mufucka who shot him 6 feet deep

Mayne whos next cause cops don’t give a damn I heard the killer might be released

We aint never gon be safe with these crooked cops in our streets

Sorry got off topic rest in peace Proof, Pac, and B-I-G

Left eye, JMJ, Eazy, ODB, Bob Marley ma OG’s RIP

But we aint gon just focus on the death of a superstar but on his life

One of my favorite rappers in tha game rest in peace tonight

Hook *Mystery*

RIP Proof yea ma nigga hope heaven treats-ya-right

You tha last nigga that deserved to see-tha-light

So I’m a read a Jesus piece in your honor sippin hennesey

The ill pour out the cristile for ma nigga R-I-P

Currently Listening Young Buck DJ Drama Case Dismissed (Mixtape) The Introduction of G-Unit South Gangsta Grillz Special Edition see related

G-A-N-G-S-T-R

ay this rap goes to young jeezys song trapstar and yal could probly figya out how it goes. make sure to spread word bout ma site and holla.

GANGSTR
Buddy feat. Toni Chop & Mystery

Hook *Buddy*

Im a G-A-N-G-S-T-R

Cookin crack in da kitchen and spittin ma bars

Im gangsta (yal mufuckas frontin)

And im gangsta (yal gettin in ta somthin)

You could spell it with an r or spell it with an a

It dont matter as long as you get across wat you gotta say

And im gangsta (yal mufuckas frontin)

Im gangsta (yal gettin in ta somthin)

*Buddy*

you aint shit mufucka but you can keep on tryin

tha streets got ears mufucka and they gon kno you lyin

i bounce like a mattress thats seen alotta fuckin

and im deep like tha hoe that just wont stop suckin

dont push my buttons do you see verizon slapped across ma face

if you do i see ma hand slapped across ya face

fifteen years old already rockin the neckwear

bout to cop me a rolex this time next year

im tha type of gangsta that tha ogs salute

tha type bouncin round in chucks or som timbaland boots

tha type that wen you get home and kick off ya shoes

you see buddy on abc channel 7 news

im runnin thru them streets bein chased by tha cops

lil shad pick me up and i jump into his drop

grippin wood grain his hand is so fuckin rocked

with tha ice from tha freezer he getting up his stocks

if tha cop get within range and fire his colt 45

im reaching under tha seat “ay shad ill slo down his ride”

but shad say lil buddy you gon have to wait

cause tha pig writin down ma license plate

so I sit back restin you kno im a be a hard winner

got more ice than tha drink served up by the bartender

strive to be number your one and be a frend and be best by far
Buddys tha name hes a G-A-N-G-S-T-R

Hook *Buddy*

Im a G-A-N-G-S-T-R

Cookin crack in da kitchen and spittin ma bars

Im gangsta (yal mufuckas frontin)

And im gangsta (yal gettin in ta somthin)

You could spell it with an r or spell it with an a

It dont matter as long as you get across wat you gotta say

And im gangsta (yal mufuckas frontin)

Im gangsta (yal gettin in ta somthin)

*Toni Chop*

Enough wit all this bitch'n moan'n whin'n, and snitchin
Just keep ya eyebrows down playa, you'll learn if you pay attention
About how real hustlas go around stacking chips and
clockin' them grips, paper come in quick the 1st and the 5th
Accompanied the pushers, I was the bodyguard,
that lil wily nigga, flashin' my glock like sirens on a cop car
Then when they got popped I had no choice but to be a rockstar
got out hood the to the burbs and put my experience to bars
Now its a popular misconception that when you leave the hood you frail
But only the ignant niggas wanna keep they asses there
Them ones wit no sense of self and the ones who lack ambition
but fuck the bullshit, man, I'm an MC on a mission
Just I abuse vocabulary like a drunk rednecks do they kids
don't think that I won't run up on you quick and split cha wig
Comin from where I'm from, its life you learn to enjoy
Can take the boy out the hood but can't take the hood out the boy

Hook *Buddy*

Im a G-A-N-G-S-T-R

Cookin crack in da kitchen and spittin ma bars

Im gangsta (yal mufuckas frontin)

And im gangsta (yal gettin in ta somthin)

You could spell it with an r or spell it with an a

It dont matter as long as you get across wat you gotta say

And im gangsta (yal mufuckas frontin)

Im gangsta (yal gettin in ta somthin)

*Mystery*

Because I’m a gangsta I know many men wish death

Cause I hate on wankstas and I’m glossy like blistex

You must like drowning nigga keep talking you gon get whet

If I removed the chain yal would hate on tha wrist next

I’m getting major in tha streets like I just got signed to g-unit or dipset

So keep fuckin around and tha town gon get they clips set

Crooked cops patrolin alleyways poppin all the purse snatchers

When the mic let off its shells I guarantee its finna hurt rappers

I drop a couple acids so I ont get drunk wen I drank

So if a nigga got his knife out I dont slump to tha shank

That’s how I roll but I don’t kill a nigga for no reason with ma heat

Unless he scuffin up tha kicks or bring treason in his beats

Gangstas don’t need a kill or need a brag about they nine milley

I let ma best nigga in on eerthang and say its time fo you to shine philly

They call me mystery cause im unknown but ill tell you eer thang

Im a gangsta and reppin ma hood is a damn sure thang

Hook *Buddy*

Im a G-A-N-G-S-T-R

Cookin crack in da kitchen and spittin ma bars

Im gangsta (yal mufuckas frontin)

And im gangsta (yal gettin in ta somthin)

You could spell it with an r or spell it with an a

It dont matter as long as you get across wat you gotta say

And im gangsta (yal mufuckas frontin)

Im gangsta (yal gettin in ta somthin)