4 Da Fam

[Verse 1: Memphis Bleek] Ayo, this time it's for my family, we ride or die It's in the blood til the death, now aim for the sky My four blow fo sure, for dough, for only It's money, drugs, and hot slugs You know Bleek squeeze hammers til they nail me Fuck wha niggas tell me Street scholar, keep firing is what they tell me Drug chemist, thug nigga be named Memphis Straight from da borough of dem B.K. niggas Where we rob for the fun of it, hustle for the drug of it Wrap money in rubber bands, just for the love of it Straight from my ghetto, we listen to heavy metal like Desert Eagles, street sweepers, loud metal It's hit and run now, motherfuck anyone of you We dem niggas be in ya crib just like furniture Pop up wit the gun in ya Release one for zero-zero M (Yeah) Bleek-R-O-C (Yeah yeah) dot com (Yeah) [Verse 2: Beanie Sigel] This Philly cat back at it Still throwing crack at it Still fucking wit them crack addicts Still bust 'em wit them black 'matics It's ain't the bucks, it's the rush You trying to get my ass at it They say I think ass backwards Fuck how I act, as long as I stack, it's all mathematics Our tracks nice, hug the block to track dice Late night, club night, Mac attract dikes I pull up, Cadillac truck nice Two guns, you know Mac pack gat twice Gets that crack back with that ice No joke wit the coke, I whips that right No doubt, never a droubt, gets that price (Uh) It gets that nice, when you live that life Papi knows yours name and you ditched that wife nigga Gets that green nigga, gets that chain nigga [Amil] I get forty G's a feature now Hold Franklins like a Aretha now In the SL two seater now And I'm in nothing but diamonds I'm the illest female that you heard thus far Five-five with the thirty-four B-cup bra I don't fuck with them cats who ain't up to par I get niggas for cash, clothes, jeweleries, plus cars I'm talking rent money, I'm talking bank money I'm talking Martha Keats step of wit the rent money Moving on up, two in the sauna Still ride through the block, pull up on the corner, plus Plus, give me an inch so I can take a mile I bring life like a new born naked child Bitches trying to come up, gotta wait a while As of now, Amil-lion just played ya style (You dealing wit), nigga [Jay-Z] The, the Roc, the the, the Roc (Let me talk to ya'll niggas real quick) The, the Roc, uh uh, the Roc Yo, y'all niggas truly ain't ready for this "Dynasty" thing Y'all thinking Blake Carrington, I'm thinkin more like Ming I got four nephews, and they all writing They all young and wild, plus they all like things And I'm having a child, which is more frighting What y'all about to witness is big business kid Big bosses, cocky, and big Benzsesses Come through flossing them shiny rims it is And "loss" don't pop up in their sentences I think you understand what type of event this is I don't think you know how focused young Memphis is Or how Sigel's so real, when you add on Amil This is much more than rap, it's black entrepreneur Clothing, movie, and films, we come to conquer it all Rocawear, eighty mill in like, eighteen months You could bullshit with rap if you want, motherfuckers When it's all said and done, we gon see what's what Holla at Hov, I'll be in the cut (What, huh) The, the Roc, the the, the Roc The, the Roc, the uh, the Roc (You rollin wit) The Roc, dynasty niggas (Whoop) Uh-huh, get'cha mind right, c'mon Roc-A-Fella Records, 2000 nigga Get'cha mind right, holla