Is anybody out there...

I swear I feel so all alone, back down on my knees again
Hopin you can keep me strong, cuz I can't hardly sleep tonight
I took too many sleepin pills, I drunk too many Miller Lites
And I can feel the Reaper near, so please forgive me for my sins
I am just another man, sorry for the pain that I've caused
I know that you'll understand, these demons'll drive me - insane
I've been goin mad, rightly oughta blow out my brains
Cuz I'm hurtin bad but I'm fightin... blast, on the other day
These problems got me usin more drugs, along with the other things
I'm slowly fading into my thoughts, (come against me, bring it on!)
and I'm driftin in and outta space, and I don't believe I'm wakin up
with the alcohol, them drinks, drift me to another world
Where the sunshine stay shinin, I think I was finna url
Mom, can ya look at me? This ain't what I used to be
Tomorrow, I'll be somebody else, cuz I ain't been me
I can't seem to shake these, I'll put that there on every day
Boy tryna figure me out, is like Lamar changing
But my childhood was fucked up - raised rowdy by a single moms
She told me my daddy didn't give a fuck, she ain't let him do his job
Seventh grade; failing, and I don't know my next of kin
These days in these fucked up ways, who the fuck are them?
My daddy had three other kids, but I ain't never seen 'em
So, ain't no sense in coming around now, you ain't been here befo'
It's sad but I ain't feelin nuttin, my whole life's been a fuckin maze
and when I tried to locate my siblings, they were gone away
Lost inside they other things, fucked me then, fucked me now
Quick to tell me "Show you some love" nigga show you Hell
Ain't no love I'm feelin here, I ain't never felt this vile
Momma - did you really love me, or was I just a child?
Said it, outside, I knew you seen it in my face
I wasn't really happy here, but I was forced to lead the way
Copped me a Cheverolet, drift away to the other side just to think
If I get to see Heaven, I can thank you for the ride
and thank you for my other kids and even though
they mommas won't admit that they can't make it but bad,
low on the child support - always been bad boo, tryna make me out to be
the bad guy that I really ain't, bitch so quick to hassle me
Cuz I don't see my kids enough, but I make the time to pick 'em up
But you find somethin to stick in my face - it ain't me fuckin up
It's bad enough, face to face, always wanna catch a case
So bad, they'll try an get me they make me - and what takes the cake
Is the whole world is fuckin up, daddy know where the weankess at
and you spoke lies to ya old mans eyes, how could you sleep wit that?
Jepordize everything, just for searchin for larger life
Sacrificin the whole family, with no regards to Christ
Funny how people can take this shit for granted, right?
But then reality strikes, and changes things overnight
I thank the Lord for watchin over me, though I'm prone to doin wrong
I repent religiously, hopin that the weak get strong
when the heat get's on {*wind blowing*}
Hopin that the weak get strong, when the heat get's on

Ya know... the street's different... stays as it likes...
Either, headin into a storm... ya in a storm...
or ya just got out of a storm... (yeah) think about it...

It's like this, y'all niggaz been invadin my turf
Ignore examples I've set while ya play the dirt
It's only one thing to do now, and that's to set it -
off, and show you motherfuckers who's boss
I don't play games, I just cock the thang
Squeeze the trigger twice and I'll blow out ya brains
I'm pissed, y'all niggaz shouldn'ta fucked with this
I clutch my fo-fifth, I puncture yo shit
I blast a nigga, plastic bag stick a nigga
Got love for no nigga, now that's yo ass nigga
It's war, so I suggest you call on your troops
Army fatigues ain't shit, cuz y'all don't shoot
I'm a Rap-A-Lot mobster, callin all the shots
from a underboss prospective, and y'all gon' respect it
I murder, by numbers nigga, one two three
Darin any motherfucker to come test me
Ya standin in the jungle nigga
Witness a motherfuckin rumble minute
I'll leave yo head with a tongue in it
And if you ain't one then bitch stop actin
If ya don't want drama, then bitch stop askin

[Hook]
Y'all don't wanna - fuck around with the gangsta shit
Fuck around with the gangsta shit
Y'all don't wanna - fuck around with the gangsta shit
Fuck around with the gangsta shit
Y'all don't wanna - fuck around with the gangsta shit
Fuck around with the gangsta shit
Y'all don't wanna - fuck around with the gangsta shit
Fuck around with the gangsta shit

I refuse to be shorted, I refuse to be defeated
Competition's depleated cuz my rhyme's so heated
And you can't fuck with me, ya need to stop fakin
I'm workin on my sixth CD and still bangin (say what?)
You think you hardcore then come show me
Just make sure ya comin for real when ya come fo' me
Cuz if not, I'm floatin up yo' motherfuckin block
Y'all some fraud niggaz, straight up broad niggaz
We hard niggaz, yeah - so fuck y'all niggaz!
Soutside I ride for all my Ward niggaz
We're strapped and all killas, we came for the battle
The Mob back in the sattle makin ya trunks rattle
If I had one dolla, for every nigga who though
that Face fell off, this whole world would be bought
Fuck that, I'll be here until it's all over
And when it's all over, go back and slang boulders
Can be stopped, not even by a bad soul
Fuck Jed and Chad, it's Jay, Prince, and Brad
Ain't enough bullshit in the states to come stop this
Rap-A-Lot Mafia shit, yeah

Ain't enough bullshit in the United States to come stop this
Rap-A-Lot shit, Mob shit...

[Hook]

It's gon' take more than just rappin, more than just sparrin
For y'all niggaz to up and just fuck with Brad Jordan
Fuck you warden, and every motherfucker who defended
You safe from talkin shit from a distance
Ya new-boot rap niggaz, comin around here
makin them bullshit caps, bitch I'll ruin your career
I got mine all my God-damn self, get in line
And I'll destroy a slew of you niggaz, one at a time
I'm the last of a kind, you God-damn right
You can never beat that, I'm just glad you see that
Is this my payback for puttin Houston down in the first place?
Got the whole world screamin Mr. Scarface
The problem is, y'all boys, you niggaz loco
and the truth is, you hoes couldn't see me with bifocals
I'm a killer in the flesh, I'm Rap-A-Lot's best
I'm Prince's adopted son, with no love for no one

The conspiracy theory...

I knew this nigga who sittin, on the dock on the bay
Had plans of gettin rich so he was plottin with Jay
This motherfucker had the street game locked
Had the blocks all sold up,
and always saw the cops when they showed up
He had the rep of being murderous too
The type of nigga, with the mind of a God-damn fool
But he knew, to get off in this crew, he had to change
So when James went to church this nigga did the same
So he's steppin back away from the cut
But his vengeance of livin, had his braincells start to fuck up
Steady callin his shots, but steady leavin a trail
So sit back peep my game, I got a story to tell

[Chorus]
I came from a gang with niggaz who do crime
They didn't rat they niggaz out when they came to do time
No snitchin nobody out when ya facin a life sentence
For death, you do it by yo God-damn self

He gettin clean, so we gave him a job
Had the whole entire city on they knees, recognizin the mob
Took the cash that he was makin, in this seat
And compared it, to the cash off in these God-damn streets
As luck gon' be, the scales didn't break even
So now he's out to go an get the cash that he needin
Some wise man once told me
(?) but I didn't believe him, so he showed me
Gave an example; the piece of a pie
Said if you eat to much it's gone at the blink of an eye
This for these niggaz out here hearin me
Hypothetical conversation, the rest of that shit, is a conspiracy
I got the word and heard he back on the grind
Ran across and met a nice spot, runnin his mob
I love the nigga, so I gave him some dap
He said he loved my work efforts,
and he said he liked the way that I rapped
Wanted to show me what he was rollin outside, but
Little did I know, he was the FBI
I heard a rumor that this nigga got knocked...
A few months past and he was back on the lot
and shift the plot, I'll teach you niggaz conspiracy theories
I spit this shit in code, but I pray that you hear me
Cuz see he know him and, he meets you
They get popped and, you do to
Illegal taps and undercover surveillance
Tapin conversations, tryna duck the years that he facin

Better yet gonna get me facin, cuz we know he's the back-
bone - if ya crush the bone, ya alter the mind
And thought process is vital at this time
And I heard, you was out to get the niggaz that's rich
But I'ma tell you motherfuckers like this

[Chorus] 2x

How the fuck is you gon' stop a train
You set your fires on your forest to burn it but then it rains
It's like Babyface and them Jay
We all got lies and RAM, you motherfuckers own they grave
We need current situations, in due time
Train 'em to do the business in 20 years down the line
So I stand firm on "We can't be stopped"
Reconcile our disagreements, and I'm still down with Rap-A-Lot
Murder ya boxers tryna break apart what God made
And regardless to what you boys say
Seek and destroy, fuck the opposition
When you for real it's in yo bloodline, not in yo motherfuckin mind
So feel it like the holy spirit, and remember
when ya face to face with the demons, you can't fear it
You fight until the battle finished
No matter what the end is, when you attack you strike with vengeance
And always judge a man by his deeds
and never buy jealousy cuz it breathes...

Conspiracy theory...

[Jay-Z]
Talk to me man...
This ya boy Young Hova, yo turn the muh'fuckin noise up
We'll get right into the proceedings this evening
Headphones are distortin, bring it down a lil' bit
Okay - now we workin wit it
The boy Face on the bassline, Face - Mob!
Welcome to New York City... it's ya boy Young Hov' chea
Conyay West on the track (whoo!) Chi-Town, what's goin on now
Can I talk to y'all for a minute? Lemme talk to y'all for a minute
Just gimme a minute of ya time baby - I don't want much (whoo!)
Lemme talk to these muh'fuckas, uhh

[Jay-Z]
Guess who's bizack?
You still smellin crack in my clothes
Don't make me have to relapse on these hoes
Take it back out to taxin them roads
When I was huggin it, niggaz couldn't do nuttin wit it
Straight from the oven wit it - came from the dirt
I emerged from it all without a stain on my shirt
You can blame my old earth, for the shit she instilled in me
Still with me, pain plus work
Shit she made me milk this game for all it's worth
That's right, these niggaz can't fuck with me
I'm callin guts everytime, drag my nuts everytime
Homey, we make a great combination don't we?
Me and the Face Mob, everytime we play face-off
Face it y'all, y'all niggaz playin basic ball
I'm on the block like I'm eight feet tall
Homey, I'm in th drop with the AC on
That's why the, streets embrace me dawg, I'm so cool!

[Hook]
Guess who's bizack?
Back on the block with the old Face Mob
Mack, Neef, and Hov'
Don't make me relax
Back to the block with the fo'
Cuz this street shit is all I know

[Scarface]
From the womb to the tomb - a hot pot of joy and a spoon
Tryna make me forty thousand and move
Motels, star-studded, rock stars and goons
Plain clothes wanna run in my room (whooooo...)
But nigga guess who's bizack? It's ya boy Face Mob
Started with an eightball, gotta get this cake dawg
Give niggaz a break, nah, you know how the game go
Fuck you think I slang fo', to go against the grain (no)
I'm out here to grind mo', rapped up in the paper chase
I wanna fuck a fine hoe and candy paint the 88
Don't got no wholesale, cuz that's not how I wanna run it
Here take these five stones and bring a nigga back a hundred
Gotta see my feet dude, you do shit a fiend do
Fire I get too hot in the kitchen, I hit the steets fool
Money is an issue - and that's on the fa' shizzle my nizzle
Ya block warmin, I can buy with the fizzle
And make fa' sho' I get to work mines, for part of the time
We go to war and you ain't makin a dime (ha ha!)
Cuz I got, shit to lose - a nigga out here payin his dues
My baby walkin gotta get him new shoes
It's a new game doin, lemme give ya the rules
Get outta line and I'ma give ya the blues
It's a new game doin, lemme give ya the rules
Get outta line and I'ma give ya the blues, whoa!

[Beanie Sigel]
Guess who's bizack?
The warm B. Mizack - a.k.a. Mr. Crack-A-Brick
Turn a homer from a half a brick, look I mastered this
You can smell it once the plastic rips
A hot plate'll make ya swell up if ya gas get clicked
You can make ya chips swell up, ya don't hafta pitch
Play them corners like a safety, watch the traffic switch
Young'n never pump fake, and you'll get past the blitz
And keep ya whole hood on flip - like on box-spring
Pissy Mack and shit, low old box of things
Strictly glassy shit - I hug the block like a quart of water
Shit I used to hug a corner like a old deuce and a quarter
Till like deuce in the mornin, with the old heads
Slangin loose quarters, this Philly cat back gatted (had it)
Still fuckin with them crack addicts
Still bustin with that black-matic

[Hook]