Artist: Rocks the World f/ Naisha Album: Rocks the World MC's Song: Stop Typed by: Davida.b. [Intro: Naisha] Uh, uh, yeah, yeah, world wide, world wide Feel this, smooth gangster shit, yeah, c'mon ya'll Stop, hah, locks get too hot, know what I mean? Them things come out boy, believe that Uh, check it, uh, yeah [Naisha] I'm runnin with rebels, runnin with devils, cocking dirty glocks This thirty shot make the city hot, them goons plop Bufoons watch while I make it to my stash box Thinkin I'm goin down, somebody call the damn cops They circle the block, tryin to get a glimpse of the white rocks Even attempt to make a sale, I hope you got bail Rockwell static comin from my Nextell I think it's a net tryin to warn me that them boys on me It's goin down, everybody face down Look around, heard the siren sound, click blao See the frowns in the faces of death Places if left, preserved in the ghetto, there is noone left See it started with the best, nothin more than death Every step was like a shortage of breath, no rest Never kill time, deez is the rules Next step, next scroll, let's unravel his tone Next text [Chorus: Naisha] When you see them boys roll through your hood, stop To my niggas that be up to no good on hot blocks Bout to cut a major deal with a rep, stop Cooperatin with the feds, buy yourself in a trap Think you were the nicest lyricist on the map? Stop Alot of MCs came across the kid and collapsed One move, that's that, see your face, I smack You didn't know I'd be getting live on the track, proceed [Naisha] Since a run away, beggin for a better day, put the gun away Get done away by AK slugs, love my Persian rugs A person's love shattered, it's bugged, sparatic, black magic Back at it, using these words from my brain addict I came accurate from flipping the script with ill tactics From getting a grip on life from exercising bad habits Keep fantasizing you'll be sleeping in that black casket A million maggots eating your flesh like your stomach acid Tha hood crafted, the flow mastered, no match with No competitors, you flakey niggas hustlin backwords Come check me nigga, I'm from Brooklyn, I spit sharp axes For the classics, we first class, clean glasses We packed with ratchets, back with actions Stop your laughing, get cracked in fractions Say my name faggot, The God you know, is guard you how? Pray to God when you facing the pound, bring the chorus down [Chorus] [Naisha] You didn't know that I'd be flipping them tracks? You didn't know about the gangstas, prankstas, hoodies and bats? You didn't know that I'd be aiming to steal You didn't know that I'd be bustin, rushin, cleaning the gat You don't think I'm gon get right back You didn't know about the hot rhymes, tight rhymes, flipping the tracks You didn't know about distributing crack You didn't know about sealer, bag em up and serve em in packs [Chorus X2]