Artist: Hell Razah f/ Beretta 9, Killah Priest Album: Black Presidents, Vol. 1 Song: What Gangstaz Do Typed by: Cno Evil [Intro: Killah Priest (Hell Razah)] Uh, yeah, uh, uh, yeah, yeah (That's just what us gangstas do) Don't talk about it, but be about it Priest, uh, Hell Razah, uh, yo (That's just what us gangstas do) 4th Disciple, the resistence starts now, baby (That's just what us gangstas do) Yeah... the resistence starts here, let's get into this shit, yo, yo [Killah Priest] We shed tears at funerals, the usual Black suits, gat shoots off, niggas duckin' Behind cars, killas go to jail and find God We grind hard in these streets, while dope addicts Nod off that leak, shit is deep Sometimes I hop out my sleep, poppin' my heat Veins in my eyes from no rest, I'm so stressed Everynight I wake up in cold sweats, I'm having nighmares Of the Old West, an Outlaw's ghost talk to me Could it be Jesse James, spirit returning in flames I wake up testing my aim... [Chorus: Hell Razah] (That's just what us gangstas do) Accept collect calls from homies that's locked up Retaliate and you get shot up (That's just what us gangstas do) Buy guns for ya family tree And make sure ya'll whole family can eat (That's just what us gangstas do) Ain't no snitching or no backstabbing If you ever caught, in the back of the paddy wagon (That's just what how our gangstas move) Never speaking on the bodies we got Cuz ain't no telling if you probably a cop (That's just what us gangstas do) [Hell Razah] That'll ride any giving sunday, and don't cop out if it's gunplay Clear niggas with a one minute phone call Only spend cash when it's necessary, kick ass and can bag any secretary Ski mask, duct tape, any advisery (that's just how our gangstas move) For every dollar that I spend, my nigga, get three back My four-fifth click, it'll knock your knee caps Pay morgage on a ghetto fortess, got a license for this nine taurus Bringing dollar signs to our office [Beretta 9] All jokes aside, this ain't no Comic View, bitch Se parle vu France, so please excuse the music I find myself sane, but any time can lose it Cuz shit be on my brain and these drugs induce it And I ain't seek the fame, it's just how I do shit If you ain't got a clue then how the fuck you lose it? In love with the white, watch how I seduce it Talented, kid, I write, and arrange, produce it You see me coming through, you best to move it, stupid Microwave style, two minutes, I lose it You can foil it, spoil it, no bud, no toilet Touch it, play with it, fondle it, don't toy with it Many questions, mad assumptions Am I G.O.D., do I, study my lessons Is this nigga real, or is a, nigga just fronting I don't give a flying, get to ducking These here left blows or right blows, elbows and low blows Can't dance, but I got flows, love girls, I can't stand hoes But I know a few, want stories, I got those Long ones, or short ones, and my list goes Skinny ones, fat ones, white ones, and black ones Indian and Asians, Spanish one and Haitian Don't forget about the mixed one, getting confused They just needed some directions, stop the hating [Hell Razah] I injure players like Ray Lewis, vestes spray through it Get mad cash like I'm half Jewish I only spit that embambing fluid, be on the con, do it Getting sucked off to calm music Move units like Rod Stewart, drop bombs to it The undisputed rap Joe Lewis My heart cold like eskimos, I give ya chest some holes And let you air out them extra flows Bank account need extra O's, fuck extra hoes It's more stress that'll test my soul [Chorus]