So What You Saying - Album Version (Explicit) Lyrics
| Song | So What You Saying - Album Version (Explicit) |
| Artist | Beanie Sigel |
| Artist | Memphis Bleek |
| Album | The Reason |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Clinton, Cox, Grant, Morrison ... | |
| Vocal：Beanie Sigel/Memphis Bleek | |
| [Chorus - Scratching w/ Background voice] | |
| [Beanie Sigel] | |
| Aiyyo Memph what's wrong with these niggas man? | |
| These niggas ain't sayin shit man | |
| These niggas on mute man | |
| I'ma make you blind motherfuckers feel some real | |
| Aiyyo the guc is here dog I'm back to work | |
| I took time off a couple niggas had to get hurt | |
| Due to the fact they wack and wasn't strapped | |
| Packin they gat, now they layin' flat | |
| In six in green (you know wut i mean?) | |
| Man I need a new gat for that | |
| Yo, I'm the coke copper plus the rock chopper | |
| Down wit M. Bleek, the Marcy prock clocker | |
| One wreck, the other destroy | |
| And with that bullshit vest on, I'm killin' your boys | |
| I don't play when it come to yae | |
| I cop cook and collect my dough in one day | |
| Book rock and collect my dough at one show | |
| False looks, Memph let one go from the floor | |
| [Memphis Bleek] | |
| Yo, yo | |
| Well I'm known to be the master in the M.C. field | |
| Oh-oh got respect, oh-one I still | |
| Tote guns to the show and then I jet wit a hoe | |
| Bitch niggas want to front and get clapped | |
| Get on the floor, clap a second time | |
| And make sure I flat-line you | |
| Let a whole round go, hit niggas behind you | |
| See the gleam on the glock, know the beam on top | |
| Get shot, popped, and drop, yo the team is the Roc | |
| As I glance at Mack, a-k-a B-Sigel | |
| Know we comin' with the macks and the extra Eagles | |
| I'm not playin, you dudes know what I'm sayin' | |
| I make a call to my dogs, them niggas comin' through sprayin' | |
| What you sayin? | |
| [Chorus] | |
| [Sigel] | |
| I'm puttin heads to beads, gun straight out the box | |
| B-Sige, I put up all the roofs and glocks | |
| I'm not playin, see these guns that I'm sprayin? | |
| Twin sub oozies, can't budge or move me | |
| Nickels stay chubby, smokers never choosy | |
| Don't gotta yell up the block, they come to me | |
| Packs with colorful tops just like coochies | |
| New jacks with they pack they like, who he? | |
| I'm not playin, knock them things off quick | |
| Got game still think off shit | |
| What you say? | |
| [Bleek] | |
| With a partner like Sigel, don't come a dime a dozen | |
| We could be brothers, we better known as cousins | |
| As we climbed the chart with who the fuck want what | |
| My hood to your hood, we showed the world crew love | |
| Who wanna play with that Roc-A-team? | |
| Know that I tote that thing that knock sixteen | |
| You walk around talkin' this and that | |
| How I sound like Jay and all my records is wack | |
| But when I dropped the LP, niggas thought it would fold | |
| Thirty days later, Coming of Age went gold | |
| What you sayin? | |
| [Chorus] | |
| [Sigel] | |
| Now party people it's time for this question | |
| No knock knock, who's that? who's there? or who is it? | |
| It's the M-A-C-K | |
| Yes the gun clapper, the duct tape, rope, black mask and kidnapper | |
| The flow dope, the beats just blazin | |
| Like Luther Vandrow says, yo 'I am so amazing and I've been waiting' | |
| For a sucker to attack the cat with two gats | |
| Yo Bleek, you got my back, show 'em how we do | |
| [Bleek] | |
| Yo, I fight fire with fire, I make crews retire | |
| I spit 9 to 5 nines, Bleek for hire | |
| Your crew murderize, see the guns that I'm bringin | |
| In an all out battle, Bleek come out swingin' | |
| Memph the type of nigga that'll spit off quick | |
| Biggs push the Benz and we spin off quick | |
| Take a sip of the Cris pour the Belvy with lime | |
| Crack the Arma del Lope and then I'm goin for mine | |
| So what you sayin? |
| zuo ci : Clinton, Cox, Grant, Morrison ... | |
| Vocal: Beanie Sigel Memphis Bleek | |
| Chorus Scratching w Background voice | |
| Beanie Sigel | |
| Aiyyo Memph what' s wrong with these niggas man? | |
| These niggas ain' t sayin shit man | |
| These niggas on mute man | |
| I' ma make you blind motherfuckers feel some real | |
| Aiyyo the guc is here dog I' m back to work | |
| I took time off a couple niggas had to get hurt | |
| Due to the fact they wack and wasn' t strapped | |
| Packin they gat, now they layin' flat | |
| In six in green you know wut i mean? | |
| Man I need a new gat for that | |
| Yo, I' m the coke copper plus the rock chopper | |
| Down wit M. Bleek, the Marcy prock clocker | |
| One wreck, the other destroy | |
| And with that bullshit vest on, I' m killin' your boys | |
| I don' t play when it come to yae | |
| I cop cook and collect my dough in one day | |
| Book rock and collect my dough at one show | |
| False looks, Memph let one go from the floor | |
| Memphis Bleek | |
| Yo, yo | |
| Well I' m known to be the master in the M. C. field | |
| Ohoh got respect, ohone I still | |
| Tote guns to the show and then I jet wit a hoe | |
| Bitch niggas want to front and get clapped | |
| Get on the floor, clap a second time | |
| And make sure I flatline you | |
| Let a whole round go, hit niggas behind you | |
| See the gleam on the glock, know the beam on top | |
| Get shot, popped, and drop, yo the team is the Roc | |
| As I glance at Mack, aka BSigel | |
| Know we comin' with the macks and the extra Eagles | |
| I' m not playin, you dudes know what I' m sayin' | |
| I make a call to my dogs, them niggas comin' through sprayin' | |
| What you sayin? | |
| Chorus | |
| Sigel | |
| I' m puttin heads to beads, gun straight out the box | |
| BSige, I put up all the roofs and glocks | |
| I' m not playin, see these guns that I' m sprayin? | |
| Twin sub oozies, can' t budge or move me | |
| Nickels stay chubby, smokers never choosy | |
| Don' t gotta yell up the block, they come to me | |
| Packs with colorful tops just like coochies | |
| New jacks with they pack they like, who he? | |
| I' m not playin, knock them things off quick | |
| Got game still think off shit | |
| What you say? | |
| Bleek | |
| With a partner like Sigel, don' t come a dime a dozen | |
| We could be brothers, we better known as cousins | |
| As we climbed the chart with who the fuck want what | |
| My hood to your hood, we showed the world crew love | |
| Who wanna play with that RocAteam? | |
| Know that I tote that thing that knock sixteen | |
| You walk around talkin' this and that | |
| How I sound like Jay and all my records is wack | |
| But when I dropped the LP, niggas thought it would fold | |
| Thirty days later, Coming of Age went gold | |
| What you sayin? | |
| Chorus | |
| Sigel | |
| Now party people it' s time for this question | |
| No knock knock, who' s that? who' s there? or who is it? | |
| It' s the MACK | |
| Yes the gun clapper, the duct tape, rope, black mask and kidnapper | |
| The flow dope, the beats just blazin | |
| Like Luther Vandrow says, yo ' I am so amazing and I' ve been waiting' | |
| For a sucker to attack the cat with two gats | |
| Yo Bleek, you got my back, show ' em how we do | |
| Bleek | |
| Yo, I fight fire with fire, I make crews retire | |
| I spit 9 to 5 nines, Bleek for hire | |
| Your crew murderize, see the guns that I' m bringin | |
| In an all out battle, Bleek come out swingin' | |
| Memph the type of nigga that' ll spit off quick | |
| Biggs push the Benz and we spin off quick | |
| Take a sip of the Cris pour the Belvy with lime | |
| Crack the Arma del Lope and then I' m goin for mine | |
| So what you sayin? |
| zuò cí : Clinton, Cox, Grant, Morrison ... | |
| Vocal: Beanie Sigel Memphis Bleek | |
| Chorus Scratching w Background voice | |
| Beanie Sigel | |
| Aiyyo Memph what' s wrong with these niggas man? | |
| These niggas ain' t sayin shit man | |
| These niggas on mute man | |
| I' ma make you blind motherfuckers feel some real | |
| Aiyyo the guc is here dog I' m back to work | |
| I took time off a couple niggas had to get hurt | |
| Due to the fact they wack and wasn' t strapped | |
| Packin they gat, now they layin' flat | |
| In six in green you know wut i mean? | |
| Man I need a new gat for that | |
| Yo, I' m the coke copper plus the rock chopper | |
| Down wit M. Bleek, the Marcy prock clocker | |
| One wreck, the other destroy | |
| And with that bullshit vest on, I' m killin' your boys | |
| I don' t play when it come to yae | |
| I cop cook and collect my dough in one day | |
| Book rock and collect my dough at one show | |
| False looks, Memph let one go from the floor | |
| Memphis Bleek | |
| Yo, yo | |
| Well I' m known to be the master in the M. C. field | |
| Ohoh got respect, ohone I still | |
| Tote guns to the show and then I jet wit a hoe | |
| Bitch niggas want to front and get clapped | |
| Get on the floor, clap a second time | |
| And make sure I flatline you | |
| Let a whole round go, hit niggas behind you | |
| See the gleam on the glock, know the beam on top | |
| Get shot, popped, and drop, yo the team is the Roc | |
| As I glance at Mack, aka BSigel | |
| Know we comin' with the macks and the extra Eagles | |
| I' m not playin, you dudes know what I' m sayin' | |
| I make a call to my dogs, them niggas comin' through sprayin' | |
| What you sayin? | |
| Chorus | |
| Sigel | |
| I' m puttin heads to beads, gun straight out the box | |
| BSige, I put up all the roofs and glocks | |
| I' m not playin, see these guns that I' m sprayin? | |
| Twin sub oozies, can' t budge or move me | |
| Nickels stay chubby, smokers never choosy | |
| Don' t gotta yell up the block, they come to me | |
| Packs with colorful tops just like coochies | |
| New jacks with they pack they like, who he? | |
| I' m not playin, knock them things off quick | |
| Got game still think off shit | |
| What you say? | |
| Bleek | |
| With a partner like Sigel, don' t come a dime a dozen | |
| We could be brothers, we better known as cousins | |
| As we climbed the chart with who the fuck want what | |
| My hood to your hood, we showed the world crew love | |
| Who wanna play with that RocAteam? | |
| Know that I tote that thing that knock sixteen | |
| You walk around talkin' this and that | |
| How I sound like Jay and all my records is wack | |
| But when I dropped the LP, niggas thought it would fold | |
| Thirty days later, Coming of Age went gold | |
| What you sayin? | |
| Chorus | |
| Sigel | |
| Now party people it' s time for this question | |
| No knock knock, who' s that? who' s there? or who is it? | |
| It' s the MACK | |
| Yes the gun clapper, the duct tape, rope, black mask and kidnapper | |
| The flow dope, the beats just blazin | |
| Like Luther Vandrow says, yo ' I am so amazing and I' ve been waiting' | |
| For a sucker to attack the cat with two gats | |
| Yo Bleek, you got my back, show ' em how we do | |
| Bleek | |
| Yo, I fight fire with fire, I make crews retire | |
| I spit 9 to 5 nines, Bleek for hire | |
| Your crew murderize, see the guns that I' m bringin | |
| In an all out battle, Bleek come out swingin' | |
| Memph the type of nigga that' ll spit off quick | |
| Biggs push the Benz and we spin off quick | |
| Take a sip of the Cris pour the Belvy with lime | |
| Crack the Arma del Lope and then I' m goin for mine | |
| So what you sayin? |
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