Bleeding from the Mouth

Trackmasters Nigga
 L.O.X, CNN
 I been through, runnin' from cops, eatin' beef on the corner
 Been through cold cells, thug in the bench, the rap performer
 I been put the Mack upon ya, look faggot
 Turn around to shshshsh, to shoot faggots
 I been a star since Pat Benetar
 CNN, Lox the type of shit that have you fleein' a rock
 I been put the key in a lock
 Who got a song, hot a Capone
 And Nore copped the Benz, first day home
 I been beatin' niggaz up, been spittin' on hoes
 Thinkin' they too good for hood niggaz
 Been in my zone
 Been the champ since Larry Holmes, Spinks had teeth
 And in a forbuilding,
 been had 'em reppin' the street
 Caught 'em wide over Y.O, first felony
 Solo Eightball and MJG
 What is you tellin' me
 Yo, yo
 I got guns, guns
 Mad fuckin' guns, ha
 I had them hundreds when you had them little ones, ha
 But fuck that, live niggaz, In rap
 And you can catch me with a Teletubbie
 Holdin' my gat
 Yo, I'm a soldier, what
 You a soldier, Nigga infact
 A wow, niggaz from suddenly just settin' a trap
 I murder you, the niggaz fiend
 Just fiend to attack
 You shut the tunnel down twice like militant night
 We at the club tonight, Nore yo
 Please be nice
 I buy the bar out
 Crystal, no glass, no ice
 I drink it straight from the bottle,
 And I spit on a ho
 Ayyo, you boned that bitch
 Naw I pissed on a ho
 Melvin Flynt, exclusive new shit
 Yo, you better tell 'em you heard 'it on this Track
 Masterz
 [ Jadakiss] + (Noreaga)
 Yo, yo,
 You only need a gun and some crack to get you a stack
 (L.O.X., CNN, Y.O. to Iraq)
 Luxury cars, twenty thous, thugged out the bar
 (House on the hill, and my niggaz blowin' for real)
 Store in the hood, my niggas go to war and we good
 We just thugged out hustlers, tourin' the hood
 We the deepest niggaz out (the streetest niggaz out)
 L.O.X. and CNN will leave you bleedin' from the mouth
 I learned at a young age
 Not to ride with dummies
 That won't die for they man
 But 'ell die for money
 And if the L.O.X. get rich
 We goin' divide the money
 Where we from we stay live
 And survivin' hungry
 Don't pass me a blunt
 But you can pass me a gun
 And you can have that pretty bitch,
 Right after I cum
 And you can front and keep your watch
 We goin' puncture a lung
 L.O.X. style
 Cocksucker
 Dump and we run
 All our dogs up in the slums
 Humpin' they chums
 Holdin' they pits
 Lightin' blunts
 Loadin' they shit
 And niggaz can't understand,
 that we married the street
 And when we felt like we were cheatin'
 We ain't carryin' our heat
 And we don't like holdin' nothing
 But we carry a beef
 Hopin' ya family stay strong
 Then they can carry the grief
 You break bread with a thief
 And then you scarry to sleep
 And we ain't tryin' to bury you
 We tryin' to bury a jeep
 What
 What
 What, what, what
 What
 What
 What, what, what