| Song | U Da Man (LP Version) |
| Artist | Black Moon |
| Album | Enta da Stage |
| 作曲 : Black Moon | |
| What, here comes the mutha****in' 5 | |
| Pass the Crooked I, comin' straight out of Bed-Stuy | |
| 9-19, I believe | |
| When I wanna puff a mad L I got the dutch hidden in my sleeve | |
| Then I call my man Reels | |
| Then we start the El Dorados and pick us up a fat bag of drills | |
| Always keep the nine cocked | |
| Just in case a nigga feels an appetite for some nice lead lock | |
| Caught a nigga from a chin | |
| Now his ass is in, hit the preach 'cause he said it was a sin | |
| Verse 2: Big Dru Ha | |
| Well, it's the ill Caucasian, check the invasion | |
| Bushwick to White Plains, the world in seven days and back | |
| I'm down with the Black Smif-N-Wessun persuasion | |
| Wanna flex next, swing one, that's all she wrote | |
| Get the point to the joint, now you're bendin' for the soap | |
| Like my bitch, **** a bitch real quick, then I vanish | |
| I always get the pussy 'cause I tell 'em that I'm Spanish | |
| Chill, lay low, I'm throwin' headcracks in cec-lo | |
| Niggas losin' dough so now they gots to bet a kilo | |
| Mines for the takin', never fakin' when I kick it | |
| Girls be on my jock, they want a taste so they lick it | |
| Rip it from the back, bust a nut in her crack | |
| Big Dru Ha puffin lye and I'm out, black | |
| Hook 2X | |
| Now you the man, now you the man, now you the man | |
| Now you the man, now you the mutha****in' man | |
| Verse 3: Havoc | |
| Niggas regret it when they get wetted with the automatic weapons | |
| When I walk the streets I pack a Tec for protection | |
| You know the deal, nowadays shit is real | |
| Kid, I had it up to here, mutha****as better chill | |
| 'Cause on the block, yes kid, we get busy | |
| Front on my crew and get bust open like a ****in' Phillie | |
| Punk mutha****ers on the mic get violated | |
| A rhyme ain't a rhyme if it ain't crime-related | |
| I'm bustin' raps like a nigga bustin' caps | |
| I grab the mic, cock it back and kick the ****in' facts | |
| Stompin' niggas out with my black Timbs | |
| Leavin' niggas crippled with artificial limbs | |
| A slug in the brain 'cause you tried to sham | |
| You thought you was the man, you ****in' coward | |
| Verse 4: Tek | |
| I'm with my ill niggas troopin' down Atlantic Ave | |
| Three blunts still plus there's weed in the stash | |
| Timb boots flop as the L gets sparked | |
| Play the shouts from the street, it's flames movin' in the dark | |
| I've had it up to here with y'all weak-ass rappers | |
| Bucktown, home of the Originoo Gunn Clappaz | |
| The name's Smif-N-Wessun and we're representin' lovely | |
| Smif draws the 4-5th if you punks try to rub me | |
| And I got his back, leave your body lyin' flat | |
| It's time to knuckle up, guard your grill, **** that | |
| Timberlands bootin' up the ass of A&R's | |
| You gettin' surgery tryin' to cover up the scars | |
| You pussy old bwoy, bett'r watch where ya stand | |
| Smif-N-Wessun comin', lettin' you know who's the man | |
| Hook 2X | |
| Now you the man, now you the man, now you the man | |
| Now you the man, now you the mutha****in' man | |
| Verse 5: Steele | |
| These niggas is crazy, but I get real rough, no question | |
| Runnin' with Black Moon, representin' Smif-N-Wessun | |
| The boy's crazy, boys roll Mobb Deep | |
| Bringin' Havoc, so get dramatic and get splattered in a heartbeat | |
| Bits and pieces when I release the boom | |
| These type of tunes kept me consumed in a rubber room | |
| Now I rock with Buckshot, what the ****, ock | |
| I got 'nuff props so you can get the fat cock | |
| Verse 6: Buckshot Shorty | |
| I've got 1, 2, 3, let me know if you're ready for me | |
| Lawd, you must throw your hands upon the mic and let 'em know | |
| About the flow when you rip and stick it 'cause you must get wicked | |
| Never hesitate to big up a lyrical gangster, not lyrical prankster, see | |
| Straight from the head of Buckshot hittin' 'em real irie | |
| Mi never come fi short, mi a-fi shoot upon di mic | |
| You gwan fall like di Babylon on sight | |
| Taught by my nigga Screwface tie your shoe-lace | |
| Let my nigga Bass tell me who take who place | |
| Side up and up, side up and up, black | |
| Yo chill, parlay, god, they ain't ready for that | |
| They ain't ready for that | |
| Everybody wan fly and get high but nobody wan die, why | |
| Hey yo word up, kid | |
| That's not that bullshit | |
| Word, hahaha | |
| Hook 4X | |
| Now you the man, now you the man, now you the man | |
| Now you the man, now you the mutha****in' man |
| zuò qǔ : Black Moon | |
| What, here comes the mutha in' 5 | |
| Pass the Crooked I, comin' straight out of BedStuy | |
| 919, I believe | |
| When I wanna puff a mad L I got the dutch hidden in my sleeve | |
| Then I call my man Reels | |
| Then we start the El Dorados and pick us up a fat bag of drills | |
| Always keep the nine cocked | |
| Just in case a nigga feels an appetite for some nice lead lock | |
| Caught a nigga from a chin | |
| Now his ass is in, hit the preach ' cause he said it was a sin | |
| Verse 2: Big Dru Ha | |
| Well, it' s the ill Caucasian, check the invasion | |
| Bushwick to White Plains, the world in seven days and back | |
| I' m down with the Black SmifNWessun persuasion | |
| Wanna flex next, swing one, that' s all she wrote | |
| Get the point to the joint, now you' re bendin' for the soap | |
| Like my bitch, a bitch real quick, then I vanish | |
| I always get the pussy ' cause I tell ' em that I' m Spanish | |
| Chill, lay low, I' m throwin' headcracks in ceclo | |
| Niggas losin' dough so now they gots to bet a kilo | |
| Mines for the takin', never fakin' when I kick it | |
| Girls be on my jock, they want a taste so they lick it | |
| Rip it from the back, bust a nut in her crack | |
| Big Dru Ha puffin lye and I' m out, black | |
| Hook 2X | |
| Now you the man, now you the man, now you the man | |
| Now you the man, now you the mutha in' man | |
| Verse 3: Havoc | |
| Niggas regret it when they get wetted with the automatic weapons | |
| When I walk the streets I pack a Tec for protection | |
| You know the deal, nowadays shit is real | |
| Kid, I had it up to here, mutha as better chill | |
| ' Cause on the block, yes kid, we get busy | |
| Front on my crew and get bust open like a in' Phillie | |
| Punk mutha ers on the mic get violated | |
| A rhyme ain' t a rhyme if it ain' t crimerelated | |
| I' m bustin' raps like a nigga bustin' caps | |
| I grab the mic, cock it back and kick the in' facts | |
| Stompin' niggas out with my black Timbs | |
| Leavin' niggas crippled with artificial limbs | |
| A slug in the brain ' cause you tried to sham | |
| You thought you was the man, you in' coward | |
| Verse 4: Tek | |
| I' m with my ill niggas troopin' down Atlantic Ave | |
| Three blunts still plus there' s weed in the stash | |
| Timb boots flop as the L gets sparked | |
| Play the shouts from the street, it' s flames movin' in the dark | |
| I' ve had it up to here with y' all weakass rappers | |
| Bucktown, home of the Originoo Gunn Clappaz | |
| The name' s SmifNWessun and we' re representin' lovely | |
| Smif draws the 45th if you punks try to rub me | |
| And I got his back, leave your body lyin' flat | |
| It' s time to knuckle up, guard your grill, that | |
| Timberlands bootin' up the ass of A R' s | |
| You gettin' surgery tryin' to cover up the scars | |
| You pussy old bwoy, bett' r watch where ya stand | |
| SmifNWessun comin', lettin' you know who' s the man | |
| Hook 2X | |
| Now you the man, now you the man, now you the man | |
| Now you the man, now you the mutha in' man | |
| Verse 5: Steele | |
| These niggas is crazy, but I get real rough, no question | |
| Runnin' with Black Moon, representin' SmifNWessun | |
| The boy' s crazy, boys roll Mobb Deep | |
| Bringin' Havoc, so get dramatic and get splattered in a heartbeat | |
| Bits and pieces when I release the boom | |
| These type of tunes kept me consumed in a rubber room | |
| Now I rock with Buckshot, what the , ock | |
| I got ' nuff props so you can get the fat cock | |
| Verse 6: Buckshot Shorty | |
| I' ve got 1, 2, 3, let me know if you' re ready for me | |
| Lawd, you must throw your hands upon the mic and let ' em know | |
| About the flow when you rip and stick it ' cause you must get wicked | |
| Never hesitate to big up a lyrical gangster, not lyrical prankster, see | |
| Straight from the head of Buckshot hittin' ' em real irie | |
| Mi never come fi short, mi afi shoot upon di mic | |
| You gwan fall like di Babylon on sight | |
| Taught by my nigga Screwface tie your shoelace | |
| Let my nigga Bass tell me who take who place | |
| Side up and up, side up and up, black | |
| Yo chill, parlay, god, they ain' t ready for that | |
| They ain' t ready for that | |
| Everybody wan fly and get high but nobody wan die, why | |
| Hey yo word up, kid | |
| That' s not that bullshit | |
| Word, hahaha | |
| Hook 4X | |
| Now you the man, now you the man, now you the man | |
| Now you the man, now you the mutha in' man |