M.o.p. - Face off 2k1 lyrics

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 n***as 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 pa**ed 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 sh** (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) k** again! You are now tuned in to the Works of Mart Take two steps back it's gon' hurt you pah! Who the f** 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 sh** twisted Like bamboo with no trees in it Fall back, motherf**er 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 f** gon' stop Fame? Y'all n***as keep waitin til they pop Fame And hold your breath while you wait b**h, I got game n***as ain't feelin the Fame b**h? Stop dreamin I'm the sh** that felt good comin out of my pop's semen Hit the streets and thug with me No matter how disgruntled you sound n***a, you can't f** with me Too many dick riders that's quick to go blaow But look b**h, I'mma let you know now You f**in with thugs, what the f** you think this was? I'm what you want me to be, stop f**in with me Cause I'm a n***a of the earth (earth) n***a of the sea (sea) n***a 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 motherf**ers ulcers with lead Have your parents and the pastor huddled over your bed May the Lord be with you, game over, you're dead Motherf**er!