Artist: Timbo King f/ Gutterman, Self Rachet, Sharecka, V-Gully Album: 56 Platoon, Vol. 1 Song: Victorious Typed by: Tha Masta [Intro: Self Rachet (Sharecka)] Holla... (Fuck that! I said it, nigga! See me!) Church Ave (Hoodtrepenuers) Uh-huh (Cyborg Nation) What what? (Fuck where I rest at, nigga I rest at where you rest at, nigga! That's where you rest at I rest at where the best at, nigga! Let's take it, nigga! Test that, nigga! You motherfucker! See me when you see me! Your mother!) City (I said it, nigga! You know where the best at where we rest at, nigga! Test that when you test that, nigga!) B.V.I. [Chorus: V-Gully] We nah look like we are shotta right now but We could a dust shotta boy now We nah look like we are rapper right now but We could a dust rapper boy now We nah look like we are pop star now yo We could a dust pop star now You must nah think we can't make it clap yo We coulda just clap it up now... [Timbo King] In '92 when Ill Shy passed Shawn and Richie Original rude boys and they all from the '50s Tall man kept a gun in his hand before a shotta Kings died way in front of the ice cream parlor Where the black at? Pat had dimes for sale The same time Shamel and Justice went to jail Linked with Spark but the streets wasn't feelin' the tracks Always knew I was nice but the price of fame, reminded me of a dice game Yeah, Pac came to Tilden, did "Above the Rim" Had Church Ave wonderin' what up with Timb Nigga thorough and his man Jarrett bust his hammer 'Til the judge put him in the slammer, one to three I'm like, "Dark, it's just you and me" That's when I met Reckalect, yea We was both in the spot We was trippin' off our eyes cuz one of them cocked Make a long story short now, we the Fam Squads turn to Brickface, never ran never will One mil for the Capitol deal, shit was real Now we back to square one, I fear none I walk through the valley of hate with big guns I walk through the valley of hate with big guns [Chorus: V-Gully] We nah look like we are shotta right now but We could a dust shotta boy now And we nah look like we are rapper right now but We could a dust rapper boy now And we nah look like we are pop star now yo We could a dust pop star now yo Ya better know I be a shotta right now Ya better know say that a Gutter right now [Gutterman] Ya boy rap now, four pound invadin' ya set Who them niggaz with? Everybody lookin' around Bogard status, a Devo in ya set My shit gutter nigga, so never mind who the next Wherever our killa niggaz, 56 showin' respect Call tracks up, I.R.S. come and collect See this street game, top notch, knowin' ya vets Mind's stressed out, every minute signin' a cheque Comin' correct... missed stray, wish I could fly Take a break from the shit, go and chill in the sky I wonder why, y'all the ones causin' my pain Look at 'em whisperin' sweet nothings, candy rain Pay ya no mind, years later, still on the grind Game stepped up, mixtapes, spittin' my lines Pressin' rewind, who the fuck you talkin' about? Ask me, best a nigga leakin' blood from his mouth Games is done, who the fuck claimin' his son? Size his crew up, find a nigga, lay him in the Sun Scoop Malik up, B.V.I. shirt on his back Age nine and he fine, no need to worry about that Gutter on the track, now that's some shit to worry about My new shit niggaz, yo I'm leavin' you out Ain't a rapper, just had to get some shit off my chest Bump this when I pull up on the block with Self Self Rachet! [Chorus: V-Gully] We nah look like we are shotta right now but We could a dust shotta boy now And we nah look like we are rapper right now but We could a dust rapper boy now And we nah look like we are pop star now but We could a dust pop star now yo You must nah think we can't make it clap yo We coulda just clap it up now... [Self Rachet] I'm tired of seein' you fuckers When niggaz give the word I be the first to fuckin' touch ya No need to fly niggaz down for these cocksuckers Aiyo they all suck dick Yo they talk amongst eachother but they don't say shit No bricks, no bitch, no chips, no whips No sticks, no flips, no love for you son Now gwan for ya gun pussy, I make you famous Bust shots like sky rockets at the niggaz you came with And nothin' changed, prick, B.V.I. we made a brick I see two bees in my eye, nigga, I'm on some shit I split two peas in a pod with my whole damn click I spit two tray pounds, who the fuck need a clip? Five guns, six sit, five run, six snitch Fifty-six, fifty-six, five-six, five-six We bully you breeds, you want the truth? You niggaz is fleas I've been gone for a minute, now I'm back 'til I've finished I will survive, beat a battle with tears in my eyes Self Rachet, I don't need no gun to take yo' package Total package just hit big, yeah it's way over classic I build a tent for my militant and move with the masses You seeds are in, you stage-playin' you just actin' We the type to get it poppin' nigga while you get it pappin' Sayin' there's help, I'm the elf, nigga good with rappin' Brook-lawn, Jack Jr., nigga thief for that jackin' Crook-lawn, Crook Sr., nigga good with that clappin' [Sharecka] Brooklyn, Brooklyn Hoodtrepeneurs, Cyborg Nation at it's finest At it's finest, hahahah Everybody in the crowd, what up what up? Yeah put yo' guns in the air, what up what up? All my Brooklyn niggaz yeah, what up what up? Yeah put yo' guns in the air... hah hah! Aiyo I spits the five If it wasn't for the deal, yo, I'd stick or rob Run up in Jake's spot, take Rock or Todd Hey he can keep his jewels cuz I like his tie If a brother hangin' low on funds When I see Nelly, he gon' have to give up yo his Air Force Ones I have Mystikal sayin', "Hah, yeah that boy there be crazy" Missy's so slim now she could have my baby Trina I ain't Juvenile but if you "Back That Ass Up" You could fall on the floor cuz I want bucks Seems to me nowadays these artists ain't robbin' Eminem got 80% soundin' garbage Artists goin' platinum in a weak, yeah blame it on The Neptunes beats When you see him in the streets and he's spitting weak Lot of cats yellin' hard, nigga who you be? Nigga who you be? Come on! Brooklyn up in this motherfucker yeah Cyborg Nation in this motherfucker yeah B.V.I., Hoodtrepeneurs, what? [Outro: Sharecka] Yeah... that's cuz they sayin' nothin', man Hoodtrepeneurs, Cyborg Nation, B.V.I. Bo King, nigga... your father! Scam new and improved, get it? Understand you with... your mother! Nigga! Stand up, get the fuck outta here! Our nieces and nephews, sisters and cousins too Royal Fam... your grandmother! Yeah... that's word to the bunion on my left toe, nigga Yep... come on, let's go... your mother! Fuck that! I said it, nigga!