| You know what I'm sayin'? |
| Shit so real out here |
| I mean, like, it don't matter who the fuck you is, nigga, men, women, or tie, |
| you dig? |
| You cross that line, nigga, you gotta pay the consequences, you know what I'm |
| talkin' 'bout? |
|
| Let me tell y'all a story 'bout two niggas from the D |
| Been down since they was kids, grew up on the same street |
| They both grew up different, but they shared the same struggles |
| Put they heads together, and start helpin' one another |
| See, DJ was smart, he always been in his books |
| And lil' Marcus grimy, always been a crook |
| Put both of them together, knew they had what it took |
| To make some big money and move niggas out the hood |
| DJ was the brains, lil' Mark was the muscle |
| A nigga touch DJ, then lil' Mark comin' |
| Lil' Mark had a line down the way with his cousin |
| DJ wrote the 'scripts and knew the pharmacy to bust 'em |
| Perfect how these lil' niggas put this plan together |
| Mark shoot the trips, DJ get the bag together |
| Lookin' back at the old days, laughin' at 'em |
| Sayin' to each other, "We gon' get this cash forever" |
| Ten turned to twenty, twenty turned into fifty |
| Used to be around, now they barely in the city |
| Hundred bands later, on a million dollar mission |
| It's funny how these niggas both alike, but so different |
| DJ was the type who ain't really care for pictures |
| Mark the type of nigga who just love the attention |
| DJ was the one who you ain't know was in the building |
| And Mark the type of nigga let you know he got his pistol |
| As the bag grow and grow, and as the cash flow |
| Mark was out there fuckin' with this nothin'-ass ho |
| She fuckin' up his head and he keep fuckin' raw |
| And stealin' out his pockets every time he nod off |
| This the third time the bag came up short |
| But DJ ain't trippin', 'cause him and Mark like Blood |
| And there ain't nothin' 'posed to come between homies |
| So when he got back, bro decided to speak on it |
| Say, Mark, the last three times you've been short some cash |
| Somebody can't count it, you done showed the ho the stash |
| But he love Mark and he wouldn't dare accuse his mans |
| But somethin' ain't right, some shit he just don't understand |
| 'Cause when it came to Mark, it's this ho he been fuckin' with |
| Got so high one night, he couldn't even fuck the bitch |
| Runnin' back and forth to the door, sales rushin' in |
| Slippin' that night, this nigga hid the cheese and fronted the bitch |
| Damn, so now he know it's his fault |
| Now he sittin' back thinkin', "How to settle the score?" |
| So he went back again and he played this shit off |
| Act like he felled asleep and couldn't believe what he saw |
| She don't know she fucked up, 'cause Mark a real killer |
| And got the cheese to back and buy some real niggas |
| Can't let this shit slide, he gotta deal with it |
| Woke up next day, she took a coffee with a pill in it |
| Hour go past, this bitch done fell all out |
| Pill over her face, nigga, finish the job |
| Man or a woman, never let shit slide |
| Know it's real consequences when you fuckin' with the mob, gone |
|