Face Off Lyrics - M.o.p.

Yo a lot of people depend on me (strongly) 

I no longer wanna press them situations wrongly 

They say that a man's life, gon' be what it's gon' be 

So I switched the game around, and now it's on me 

(You control your destiny) You niggas keep testin me 

Like you want me to show you how messy a mess can be 

(You're still a bang-banger) One of Saratoga's finest 

?? ?? attention now (??) makin your highness 

Yo Bill, what'd you stop for man, what'd you stop for? 

Teach 'em, tell 'em how you feel! 

As I struggle to get my hands, on a dollar today 

I think back about cats, that have passed away 

That's why I feel more cursed than blessed 

And I wonder what in this world, more worse than stress 

I'm a mess with stress, though I present it with finesse 

Sometimes I feel as if my heart is comin out my chest 

I smoke too many ciggarettes; and the Remi won't 

Wash away the pain or get, strain off my brain 

See it's the way, we, roll down here, stroll down here 

A shootout, is like a common cold out here 

That's why I sit back and I laugh at y'all 

When it's crunchtime on the frontline, I will blast at y'all 

I'm from Saratoga Avenue, I +HAD+ to brawl 

It's where I realized it's a cold world, after all 

You hear me talkin to ya? I'm on some grown Danze shit 

(You'll be comin of age) My life is on a different page; 

Able to tame my rage 

A little bit different from the first time I picked up a gauge 

A little bit different from the first time I stepped on a stage 

Take a look at me now; a born winner 

In a race against time, like Bruce Jenner 

A natural born sinner, can't nobody tame me, or change me 

(For no reason at all he's angry, he'll) kill again! 

You are now tuned in to the Works of Mart 

Take two steps back it's gon' hurt you pah! 

Who the fuck talkin that they gon' hurt Jamal? 

This ain't no diamond-studded rapper, it's the lover-stutter-slapper 

Unpretty type rapper, gritty type rapper 

Fo'-five semi-automatic pipe clapper 

With them O.G.'s in it, please don't get your shit twisted 

Like bamboo with no trees in it 

Fall back, motherfucker you can't beat me 

It's the Womack, the extension of Danzini 

We came into the game with some change for train fare 

Two Phillies, a dime bag, and a forty ounce of beer 

Now look at him, they hittin the scene slow 

Who grindin, who thieves, but I'm lookin mean yo 

With a gangster lean though, big dog in it 

With my chrome ten inch hubcaps, but I keep 'em clean doe 

I know the pros and cons so I married the game 

Now it's mommy's little boy left to carry the name 

I'm in the streets like a dopefiend with a shoppin cart filled up with copper 

Who the fuck gon' stop Fame? 

Y'all niggas keep waitin til they pop Fame 

And hold your breath while you wait bitch, I got game 

Niggas ain't feelin the Fame bitch? Stop dreamin 

I'm the shit that felt good comin out of my pop's semen 

Hit the streets and thug with me 

No matter how disgruntled you sound nigga, you can't fuck with me 

Too many dick riders that's quick to go blaow 

But look bitch, I'mma let you know now 

You fuckin with thugs, what the fuck you think this was? 

I'm what you want me to be, stop fuckin with me 

Cause I'm a nigga of the earth (earth) nigga of the sea (sea) 

Nigga of the sky and fire, fling fire 

Why don't I-ah, dump back at your men 

It's M.O.P. and we at it again, ah-heh! 

I ain't clappin over your head 

I'mma make sure I pop somethin through ya 

Givin motherfuckers ulcers with lead 

Have your parents and the pastor huddled over your bed 

May the Lord be with you, game over, you're dead 

Motherfucker!