For The Record

Where it at Where it at
 Uhh
 (repeat 3x)
 Ohh you rhyme witta slur and sum shots in his face
 He rhyme witta slur tryna sound like ma$e
 Listened to his tape, this lil' nigga used to sound like Case
 Maybe I'm juss killin, maybe he juss snitchin
 See it a whole lot different from my cell in Clinton
 What I see is straight bug, straight thoro
 Yea he be a killa, you kill wit bugs
 Rather look at the facts not the hype
 Like who got shot and who got knifed
 Who keep gettin struck, but don't neva strike
 Hope the beef go away but the feds indict
 I know yo card nigga, it's so clear
 You juss wanna sell record you don't want warfare
 You don't wanna ride you wanna get rich and hide
 These niggaz would've died if they shot me nine times
 Hey it's juss for the record
 Take this mob shit serious, please respect it
 And there go the shots stay rippin 'em apart
 Cuz it's a blood comin outta his heart
 It's murdaaahhh bloody homicide is what they cry
 When they losin' their life
 When muhfuckaz ask me how I sleep at night
 Pretty cold witta slug with my heat held tight
 Pray to god while I'm gone, is what underneath feels like
 It's my work by the surf when they turn off the lights
 You ain't kill homi(cide) 'cause if you did
 Why you ain't get the pen after all of that hit
 You know I know, that if you live
 That shit that you spit, somebody got somebody
 Somebody got jumped, somebody got cut
 Yoo pac's a nigga, nobody got shot
 Nobody got flushed, you screamin what what
 Okay okay killa you's a slut
 Think about it, enoughs enoughs
 I'm tryna show 'em who's who
 And what is what
 I mean how can I respect you
 When them niggaz that left you ain't none of 'em blessed you
 (not one body)
 You know where they are, where they perform
 Bust yo gun, stop makin songs
 Please no more ghetto quran
 You got money now it's time to bomb
 And that's juss from the top
 Take this mob shit serious please respect it
 And there go the shots stay rippin 'em apart
 Cuz it's a blood comin outta his heart
 Death of perfection as I move witout motion
 Ain't no nigga in this game doin the shit that I'm quotin'
 Take a good look 'cause you'll neva a see enough of me
 Might be sum otha g's tryna trace n color me
 But I believe in the ways of old
 Slice a fools throat tryna tell on po
 That shouldn't exist, fuckin snitch
 Cut of his dick, put it on his lips
 You really think I was gon' let you slide
 Fuckin wit me you must be outcho mind
 You really think jail was gon' make things right
 Nigga I will shoot you till you lose yo life
 I was mindin' my own, word got back, niggaz talkin bout po
 I was like ohh, god must be ready fo this nigga to go (bye bye bye bye)
 Gangland this is the mob
 You got yo break come finish yo job
 Juss don't get the feds involved
 And I'mma reunite you wit yo moms
 Rip
 I guess this ain't juss music
 Cuz jail only made me much mo' ruthless (nigga)
 And the bitch nigga knew this
 That's why he tryed to sign me to g-unit (naaw)
 Tell 'em how you made me offers
 (I don't want that blood I'mma godfather)
 Jumped on every street corner
 Hurts yo heart that you don't get that honor
 The feds I paid fo that
 10 years up top
 I sell 'em much shop
 Both of ya was blood
 Took the bus wit cuz
 Went gun fo gun
 I earned my lug
 You, you juss pathetic
 You neva bg, despite yo efforts
 Take this mob shit serious, you gon' respect it
 Tha's juss fo the record
 And there go the shots stay rippin 'em apart
 Cuz it's a blood comin outta his heart
 It's murdah bloody homicide is what they cry
 When they losin' their life
 When muhfuckaz ask me how I sleep at night
 Pretty good witta slug and my heat me tight
 Pray to god while I'm gone, is what underneath feels like
 It's my work by the surf when they turn out the light
 turn out the lights lights
 turn out the light