B Ez Lyrics - Singles - Capone-n-noreaga

[Nas talking] 

I heard that nigga Capone's home yo... 

Word to Motha..that nigga Nore' 

Doin' his mothafuckin' thing...thugged out 

Entertainment...know what I'm sayin'? Niggas still in the streets... 

Ill Will, Braveheart nigga, there's a thin line between streets and business.. 

So we gotta have balance and be easy... 

I heard you fags want to catch me off guard 

Put Tecks to my heart, the death of Escobar 

Under your breath, whispers in the dark 

I hear it 'cause the street ain't loyal to choose sides 

Prepare for the beef, whoever lose dies 

Rich and I'm thuggin' 

I can't trust nothin', this bitch that I'm fuckin' 

This clip that I'm bustin' could jam in my fist 

Look at my hand, finger pussy with expensive rings 

Cut coke cookies, wrote poetry and broke noses B. 

The voice from Heaven 

I'm God sent, of course a legend 

This is part 1, speak my sermon, the hood reverend 

Blunted eyes red 

C-Class, a Hundred times Five Red 

CD's blast, speed fast, haters drop dead 

I'm gorgeous 

black Goddess flip the arm rest, flip the cordless 

Her body stacks the best, ass is flawless 

Finally the long awaited shit, ghetto people the sequel 

Nas, CNN, nobody's equal. 

[Chorus] 

Yo, Be easy 

Keep the club off the heezy 

Straight thugs in the back, drink creezy 

Be easy, but we still smoke treezy 

See us rippin' the shows with thugged easy. 

Niggas picked me the boss 

Ricky Ross 

Lex Two-Fifty Horse power, click and devour the source 

If it's flour then swallow your loss 

I cock Fours, kick in Poppi's doors 

All for the cash and the cause 

Niggas break big fractions of laws 

So what, we got it sewn up, smack every cat on the board 

I speak the truth, guns spit at you, shakin' my palm 

It's pitiful, wavin' my wand 

The Don, a hundred follow me like Farrakhan 

Chasin' my Henny, embrace Benny's 

It's quite Frank, my niggas will kill, never waste a Penny 

Money stay well invested 

Feel the weight on my necklace 

When death is too close flip the next shit 

Thug the game out 

Bust biscuits, pull the Range out 

Public enemy, Queens Bridge where I hang out 

Sweet scent of weed I wear like a fragrance 

My energy's kinetic, mind power type ancient. 

[Chorus] 

I see death through the corner, die, kingdom come 

Six 500's, pull up right in front of the slum 

Sticky green fingers soldiers of the great God 

Clarence spoke to the poor but he lived in Oz 

An ill hook like Roy Jones, I'm a street corner bastard 

And crush weed with the hashish 

Bandanna head dome wrapped 

Caddy trucks with the grills and the chrome snaps 

I'm on point like Al Sharpton, come peep the M.U. marksman 

The S-Class is shittin' on your weak Datsun 

Graffiti written on the Bible, my life is wicked 

I see dead corpses, and Rolls Royces 

Put your heart on your lap, listen you hear voices 

My whole persona is the drama and to smoke skama 

I can lift it up, Willy what in front of your slut 

Money bustin' out my pocket, your bank is stopped 

[Chorus]