» » »

Phone conversation Lyrics

Phone conversation by Mase  

CD  ·  DVD  ·  Sheet music


Phone conversation [Featuring Busta Rhymes]
Yo check this out right Harlem on da rise. And you don't
want no problem with us guys. M A dollar sign E and if you
ever out tryin' to find me I think I should warn you I get
hard when I want to Angeletti Bad Boy niggaz ain't ready
Verse One:
Yo you the type of cat in the building holdin' the cracks
Sling some to niggaz on the corner holdin' the gats
Nigga come through or nigga kill, never blow back
You the nigga never deal but send in all the facts
Yo I know niggaz like you cause I meet 'em all the time
And I treat 'em with the 9 if they ever keep what's mine
If I lose I get loc, put I full in the ???
Two to his throat, take his jewels and his coat
More than likely, you ain't got to like me
And this might be the last time I take you nicely
For my legion ??? siezing and start squeezin'
Niggaz talkin' sh*t, be behind the cars weaving
There's no breathin', ain't nobody in here leavin'
You kill my man, I kill your b**ch, now we're even
I'm from a cold world, where there's bleeding , 20 degrees in
Fahrenheit
Niggaz get sniped for no reason
Do a lot of work, got plenty funds and many guns
Many sons, niggaz do anything to anyone
And on the streets I don't doubt none
So when you talk to Mase better watch ya mouth son
Chorus: Busta Rhymes
Yo, if niggaz wanna act we can act
You niggaz wanna scr*p, we can scr*p
You niggaz got gats, we got gats
You niggaz wanna style, we style
If you get foul, we get foul
You get wild, we get wild
Verse Two:
Yo, started with a blue whip, got a silver new whip
Cause feds watch when I do sh*t, keep poppin' up new sh*t
Think the whole Harlem World on some clue sh*t
We Crys bub sippers, drip club niggers
Peace to the street team, y'all get love niggaz
Six years ago I was the have not nigga, hot nigga
Represent for all my block niggaz
Now I'm 6 drop niggaz, begget rock niggaz
10 G's a show and I ain't even drop niggaz
Shock niggaz who thought I was a pop nigga
You go against Mase yuo get your wig rocked nigga!
Payers like me'll leave your whole block bitter
Roll hard like when I see the bank stop nigga
Hustle is a hustle, so I never knock a nigga
Don't really f**k with dame, but still I cop jigga
Chorus
Verse Three:
Yo, I do this everyday, why brag about the glory?
Tell you the whole truth, never half the story
You wasn't no hater, you'd probably be happy for me
Billboard first slot in every category
Niggaz say they love me, they don't love me
I know deep down they wanna slug me
I feel a vibe when they hug me
Luckily I rock jewels that be chuckie over Iceberg rugbie
Pushin' a Benz buggie,
For better badge
wrote fever for notes
so need I approach
Little niggaz seated in coach
I mean, uhm, think it's smaller than the weed in my roach
I see it in my smoke
The niggaz ain't cheap; they broke
Oh yeah, this my doe year
Jealousy and envy'll get you nowhere
You don't like me, bet against me
You right, got doe do whatever you like
I get front row seats on the night of the fight
My Roley too tight, a many link loossen my ice
And 'for I scoop the dice, bet a grand I be the ???
Niggaz who'll make doe, I can affily with 'em
I'm dyin' from a sickness known as Willie-ism
Chorus/outro



CD  ·  DVD  ·  Sheet music
Comments

comments powered by Disqus