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Beanie Sigel - Текст песни What We Do
Man, if I get rocked, this shit for my kids, nigga
 It's that real shit
Even though what we do is wrong
 We still hustle 'til the sun come up
 Crack a 40 when the sun go down
 It's a cold winter, y'all niggaz better bundle up
 An' I bet it be a hotter summer, grab a onion
 Yes, the ROC gets down, you hot now, listen up
 Don't you know cops' whole purpose is to lock us down?
 An' throw away the key, but without this drug shit
 Your kids ain't got no way to eat
 We still try to keep Mom smilin'
 'Cuz when the teeth stop showin'
 An' the stomach start growlin', then the heat start flowin'
 If you from the hood, I know you feel me, keep goin'
 If a sneak start leanin' an' the heat stop workin'
 Then my heat start workin', I'ma rob me a person
 Catch a nigga sleepin' while he out in the open
 An' I'ma get him, keep flowin'
 We gotta raise our kids while we livin'
 Make a million off a record, bail my niggaz outta prison
 Fuck a Bentley or a Lexus, just my boys in the squadder
 Nigga talk reckless, then I hit 'em with the Smif an'
 But I'm never snitchin', I'm a rider
 If my kids hungry, snatch the dishes out ya kitchen
 I'll be wylin' til they pick me outta line up
 We keep the nines tucked, chopped dimes up, rap about it
 Wyle out, fuck niggaz up, laugh about it
 I'm not tryin' to visit the morgue
 But Freeway move out 'til I sit with the Lord
 'Til I get my shit together, clean up my sins
 Freeway got it in like 10 in the mornin'
 An' I can get it to ya like 10 while you yawnin', man
 Still deliver the order, man
 An' I ain't talkin' 'bout chicken an' gravy, man
 I'm talkin' 'bout bricks 'o ye yo, halves an' quarters
 4 an' a halves of hash, you do the mathBeanie Sigel - What We Do - http://ru.motolyrics.com/beanie-sigel/what-we-do-lyrics.html
 Swing past us, scoop up your daughter
 She wanna roll wit' a thug that rap, you do the math
 He won't blast 'til my stacks in order
 Man, lemme get 'em Free
 Hove never slackin', man, zippin' in the black Range
 Faster than the red ghost, gettin' ghost wit' Pac, man
 One time, know a got a knack to get that change
 Leader of the black gang, ROC, man
 Bang like T-Mac, ski mask, air it out
 Gotta kill witnesses 'cause Free's beard's stickin' out
 Y'all don't want no witness shit, we squeeze hammers, man
 Bullets breeze by you, like Louisiana, man
 But I gotta feed Tianna, man
 So I move keys, you can call me the Piano Man
 Rain, sleet, hail, snow, man
 Slang dough, E, hydro, man
 Know B. Sige in the third lane
 Gramps still prayin', workin' on my nerves, man
 Like, "Son you gotta get your soul clean
 Before they blow them horns like Coltrane"
 But still I cry tears of a hustler
 Wipe tears from my mother, pull out beers for her brothers
 That's above us, make beds for the babies
 Tuck kids under covers, buy cribs for their mothers
 Shit, I'll probably be wylin' with their fathers
 Tell Ms. Robert, tell Enijah that I'm ridin' for her father
 That's like my brother, like same mother, different father
 Any problems? Dog, know I got 'em
 An' still we grind from the bottom
 Just to make it to the bottom, sold crack in the alleyways
 Still gave back Marcy 'A Dollar Day'
 Real gangstas make hood holidays
 They ain't thank us but we still paid homage, man
 Soul Food Sunday, lookin' like Big Momma's, man
 Tell the gang I never break my promise, man, man
 Even though what we do is wrong
 Even though what we do is wrong










