Square One – Square Biz (feat. Ag & Party Arty) lyrics

F/ ag, Party Arty

I've got a voice for this shit, no choice but to spit

Rolls Royce to the six, eating oysters and shit

Gd's in the disc-player and if you got fifty keys

You're brick-layer or get your weight up!

All player-haters get your hate up, all flavored gators

Niggas paid up, I see ya'll

Throwin'trees to the cigar Iive seen you in that cvr

Tryin' to eat Pa, wantin' to ride peacock speak hard got

Tv's and vcr's or dvd's, niggas can't see gd!

Might as well quit rap and get your G. E. D

Heard the don of your mob wanna meet with me..

For what I smoke blunts in the back of the six doing donuts

Don't take much for me to go nuts

I know pimps and know s***s that hold bucks

And eat cold cuts every night like so what. What..

I'll be firing threats, quite as kept my nine'll reflect

Signs of regret through holes that my silencer left

Live & direct, computerized minds'll connect

High Intellects raised in confinements of death

And ya better peep the science that I hide in my tec

Tryin' to neglect the depth of pride and respect

Eveytime you see the God, ya be dieing for rep

Crying for less, leave your hos eyeing & wet

When I asked for some beats ya couldn't find your cassettes

So how the fuck you wanna go line for line with some vets?!

Rhyme for a Lex, catch me even rhyme for s**

Make heads bang, 'till they're bleeding out of their necks

I'm probably the best, my sick terminology's flesh

All that' let's keep it real got me tired and vexed

As hard as it gets, the Concrete Messiahs're next

Watch Edward Sizzerhand electrifying your sets, bet!

I'm known to show love, despite my cold blood

Lazy but crazy bizzy like Bone Thug

Twist the dro bud, this bitch is so tuff

Baby hit me crizzy and lick the whole nut

From a baby to a juvenile been about cash money

And if you ain't got 5 on it you won't get a pass from me

I blast a strike & kill, that's cause they like our steele

I keep a mug and be real on Cypress Hill

Had a westside connection since back then

Ask Dub C, I'm cold as Ice Cube with a Mack Ten

And ya'll claim ya'll stars but ya'll hardly peeped

I'm a prodigy bringing the havoc and my Mobb Deep

Allah spoken quotin' bars cigar smoking

Ain't swollen but the Giant'll squash Hogan

Represent the seven like Lamar Odom

Can't say your weed is the bomb 'till I start choking,

So fuck the soldier, I'll stick the leader

And I tell herbs to shut up like Trick & Trina

Like Insane Martin Payne I throw dick to Gina

Lot of whips, not a trick, got a sick demeanor

And shouts to all my unsigned niggas

Get Dirty is the next to blow ya'll don't want rhyme niggas

S** is us, tecks is us fuck with fam

Stress is us like Joe Black death is us

Seen niggas blow off the meat, next is us

Seen niggas fly off the roof and never mess with us

Here roll that and catch the rush

You thorough niggas hold that and rap with us. What!!!

Chorus: Repeat