Artist: Shabazz the Disciple f/ D. Snubs, Duss Smitty Album: The Passion of the Hood Christ Song: Stunnaz Typed by: Cno Evil [Intro: Shabazz the Disciple] Yeah, D.S., kiss the muthafucking pinky ring, nigga Welcome home, nigga, the hood miss you [Shabazz the Disciple] I'm proposing the pace, I'd like to welcome home the Godfather Who on the block, that sell block, and trade the non-bother Whose famous words, was 'you fuck me, and I fuck you harder' Fam got block ties with Danny Dan and Shawn Carter And now we sitting at the table with our seeds up Bout to shut 'em down, set up shop, get those b's up We in the studio, cooking them bags of d's up Put it on the street, double back when we re'd it up He introduced me to the game and he lived for the drama Paper chasing them halos, and nine zeros and three commas In '88, black Beemer, banned, fugitive, he eating homi's One of the first of the Pumas, we ride shine, dime o's Twenty g's a night, ninth floor, eighty; the white Whose right around the time, that the Gods started to write We put Red Hook on our back, in the map, killas feel us Half of the crew got hood tats, and stab wounds and bullets The other half is deceased or in the yard The fear ya'll know, got the violence, and they on they way to God Fuck out the Benz, open that fake gangsta shit Red Hook Projects, smoke the body to this shit, ya'll niggas strip [Chorus 2X: Shabazz the Disciple] Ya'll little monkeys try'nna swing in the jungle, for the gorillas Fronting like you moving them bundles and music killa Like bail money's in the safe, and the gun is under the pillow Your own hood saying you pussy and you'se a squealer [D. Snubs] Liar liar, pants on fire, you never was killing Cat daddy, your first day up, in Coxsackie, you was squealing You told on your team, I heard it formatted It hurt my feelings, to know that you paused, treated as badly Ya'll was willing, to give you a deuce, from every million Two hundred thousand long, that was no longer, we played the buildings We be villains, you superhero shit for the civilians Let them jump out of the fan booth, you left fours loose Come through in the drop, you cock, and let more loose You'se an asshole, infered dots if you pass go I know the truth, the O.G. Bazz gave me the scoop Cline's coming home, to shut down, we here for the loot Every dollar, down to the penny, don't try to be cute Trying to make a name for yourself, a sick nigga, you should get help Only fags put they name on they belt On the buckle, I just hustle and hustle for health, come on [Chorus 2X] [Duss Smitty] Listen, I saw a lot of niggas, grow up to be something Wrong place at the wrong time, gone for three summers Mean numbers, and twelve niggas to a shower Three summers, told to fifteen, in half an hour For the power, niggas'll body they cell mate While the C.O.'s watching you die from your cell gate And stale mate, and rotted, you rolled over Ya'll let it quiet down, believe me, it ain't over For six months, one brother be down They commissary dogs, struggling now, phones gone And you can't bail out, you wanna die, shoot your only way out There ain't a gorilla that made his way out You moving closer to your worst way out, you watching digits Got your eye on the loot, and you fake made it, try'nna make you a coogie Riker's state dreams, pushing your kuffie Swinging bangers, niggas wishing they uzi's [Chorus] [Shabazz the Disciple] I run with machiners and my team been on the rappers Hood ballers that'll bail up and shoot, after they crack it Niggas who keep, one on they back like Jamal Crawford Rush the whole, like battery rock, they try to block it You push the rock up our home court, yo, we D it up Get the steal, pull up for three, then we re it up Try to commit the flagrant foul against my set Nigga, I ain't the ref, but I still hit ya ass with the tech Just cuz a nigga's all tattered in his face and scarred That shit don't mean he put in work in the yard Now you a gangsta, cuz you rocking little vicky And a bandana, throwing up signs, like you banging your hammer Fronting, like you been putting handwork in the slammer I give ya'll little monkey niggas bananas Debo'ing niggas for blocking sequels Gats come offsides, we cross the line of scrimmages We live the life that inspire hip hop images Raised by the lifers, man, it's in our images [Hook 2X: Shabazz the Disciple] You left the hood cuz you running from beef You got shot and you talked to the police Gangs dry switching over hip hop biz Nigga, you pussy, you ain't come from the streets, you ain't a gangsta