House-Pitality - Hell Razah, 4th Disciple

Uh, uh-huh, one-two and, 4th Disciple, yea

Razah Rubies, and, this how we do it, yea, one-two

One-two and, G.G.O., yeah

It goes, hoes love you for that money you make

Show me some house-pitality, when we come in you state

Ghetto Government, we strugglin', for food on our plate

We all hustlin', the doublin', the little we make

I get weed high, I get Hennessey drunk

I clothesline you rap niggaz like an elephant trunk

My wisdom’s bleedin’every month, seven days untouched

We got stuck by the same ones who claim to be us

We can’t die, multiply, the most high, we trust

You lie, we bust, forty-five's will tie you up Calculate the proper measurement, to size you up Matter fact, I heard the government done wired you up You like to hide around wickedness to wise you up Not knowing Christ coming here to rise

you up One line be like a hundred g's, I'm huntin'M.C.'s

Battle me, all I’m gonna do is go up in fee’s

How the baddest hoe you know, go below on her knees

My family, Maccabeez, here to gather the seeds

Took my Queen out the Kingdom, and put her in jeans

New York, New York, big city of schemes

Me and her, love to ball, like a basketball team

Remind me of the nine, with the infered beam

Too much pussy screams, diamond ring fllings

To get a king set up, and wet up for CREAM

Young cubs in the jungle, with a bundle of drugs

Caught 'em slippin’in the hotel, brains in the tub

Room service came with more than just, some towels and grub

Don’t you never mix your business up, with fallin’in love

Money break hearts, that’s why the poor be holdin’a grudge

Until we rise, we gonna stay in front of the judge

All the corner hustlers, we were Kings til they rushed us Brought us to the North America’s, and handcuffed us Medicaid, food stamps, welfare, WICK, to benefit

Got us on some 'fuck the President’shit

Ghetto Government, fake niggaz can’t run with it Ain’t not rich without the poor, son, it’s one strugglin'

What you wanna hear?

Flossin’and shootin'?

Prostitution, and drug abusing, buying and stealing with car re-using

Who’s producin’it?

Studio spot, we did the music in What guns I got, how many shots, do my clip hold

The Sunz of Man go gold or not, and do we owe alot

Sip Mo’alot, follow in and callin’the shots

26 years ago, I was inside of my pops

One drop, '03, here to blow up the spot

Take your hat off and you show your respect man

State to state, man, straight up man

Nighttime dark shit, nigga