What We Do Lyrics - Beanie Sigel

Man, if I get rocked, this shit for my kids, nigga 

It's that real shit 

Even though what we do is wrong 

We still hustle 'til the sun come up 

Crack a 40 when the sun go down 

It's a cold winter, y'all niggaz better bundle up 

An' I bet it be a hotter summer, grab a onion 

Yes, the ROC gets down, you hot now, listen up 

Don't you know cops' whole purpose is to lock us down? 

An' throw away the key, but without this drug shit 

Your kids ain't got no way to eat 

We still try to keep Mom smilin' 

'Cuz when the teeth stop showin' 

An' the stomach start growlin', then the heat start flowin' 

If you from the hood, I know you feel me, keep goin' 

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If a sneak start leanin' an' the heat stop workin' 

Then my heat start workin', I'ma rob me a person 

Catch a nigga sleepin' while he out in the open 

An' I'ma get him, keep flowin' 

We gotta raise our kids while we livin' 

Make a million off a record, bail my niggaz outta prison 

Fuck a Bentley or a Lexus, just my boys in the squadder 

Nigga talk reckless, then I hit 'em with the Smif an' 

But I'm never snitchin', I'm a rider 

If my kids hungry, snatch the dishes out ya kitchen 

I'll be wylin' til they pick me outta line up 

We keep the nines tucked, chopped dimes up, rap about it 

Wyle out, fuck niggaz up, laugh about it 

I'm not tryin' to visit the morgue 

But Freeway move out 'til I sit with the Lord 

'Til I get my shit together, clean up my sins 

Freeway got it in like 10 in the mornin' 

An' I can get it to ya like 10 while you yawnin', man 

Photos 

Still deliver the order, man 

An' I ain't talkin' 'bout chicken an' gravy, man 

I'm talkin' 'bout bricks 'o ye yo, halves an' quarters 

4 an' a halves of hash, you do the math 

Swing past us, scoop up your daughter 

She wanna roll wit' a thug that rap, you do the math 

He won't blast 'til my stacks in order 

Man, lemme get 'em Free 

Hove never slackin', man, zippin' in the black Range 

Faster than the red ghost, gettin' ghost wit' Pac, man 

One time, know a got a knack to get that change 

Leader of the black gang, ROC, man 

Bang like T-Mac, ski mask, air it out 

Gotta kill witnesses 'cause Free's beard's stickin' out 

Y'all don't want no witness shit, we squeeze hammers, man 

Bullets breeze by you, like Louisiana, man 

But I gotta feed Tianna, man 

So I move keys, you can call me the Piano Man 

Rain, sleet, hail, snow, man 

Slang dough, E, hydro, man 

Know B. Sige in the third lane 

Gramps still prayin', workin' on my nerves, man 

Like, "Son you gotta get your soul clean 

Before they blow them horns like Coltrane" 

But still I cry tears of a hustler 

Wipe tears from my mother, pull out beers for her brothers 

That's above us, make beds for the babies 

Tuck kids under covers, buy cribs for their mothers 

Shit, I'll probably be wylin' with their fathers 

Tell Ms. Robert, tell Enijah that I'm ridin' for her father 

That's like my brother, like same mother, different father 

Any problems? Dog, know I got 'em 

An' still we grind from the bottom 

Just to make it to the bottom, sold crack in the alleyways 

Still gave back Marcy 'A Dollar Day' 

Real gangstas make hood holidays 

They ain't thank us but we still paid homage, man 

Soul Food Sunday, lookin' like Big Momma's, man 

Tell the gang I never break my promise, man, man 

Even though what we do is wrong 

Even though what we do is wrong