[Intro: Jazzie Redd]
Uh, thank you Billy Bob
Aye but yo check this out y'all haha
This is Jazzie Redd coming with a brand new thing
Talking about the Hip-Hop Mobsters
Check this out y'all
I flew my cousin Ice-Ike all the way down from Virginia Beach
You know what I'm saying
And we finna get busy just like this one time
Sending this shit out to the 4th ward lynch mob
And all my homies in 4th ward yo
Ice-Ike tell them niggas what's up
[Verse 1: Ice-Ike]
Niggas be trying to handle what they can't get with I'm hardcore
A roughneck getting busy [?] (yeah, yeah)
Flexing my styles all while my skills are wicked nigga I'm hyper, uh
A rap sniper, a viper, this typе (yeah, yeah)
Shit you need to duck or get your ass chuckеd like [?]
Step off bitch my vocal pitch is wise Ike is [?]
[?]
And the AK-47, I'm sending your ass to heaven
If you stepping that ho shit
I ain't taking no shit
Yo shit is ho shit
What's up ho?
Oh I feel hysterical I'm ready to kill I'm psyched up
Niggas claiming they know me Jazzie they must have me fucked up
I stomp me a bitch in the head my big black boots [?]
Squaring it off you hoes [?] while I bust this
And give me respect
Mic-check, 1-2 respect me nigga (word)
An altercation is happening boy you confronted the gravedigger (damn)
I'm bigger, my rhyme scheme is dope it took some practice
I'm breaking you off with these lyrics and sticking your ass like a cactus
I'm styling and I'm from Texas
I'm wrecking this shop and [?]
Steadily snatching [?]
Avoid this price take my advice
Stay away from the Hip-Hop mobsters
You better not fuck with the Hip-Hop mobsters
[Hook]
The Hip-Hop Mobsters
Stay away from the Hip-Hop mobsters
The Hip-Hop Mobsters
Stay away from the Hip-Hop mobsters
The Hip-Hop Mobsters
Stay away from the Hip-Hop mobsters
The Hip-Hop Mobsters
Stay away, stay away, stay away, stay away, stay away from the Hip-Hop Mobsters
[Verse 2: Jazzie Redd & Ice-Ike]
Watch out, wait a minute let me catch this track it's dope
Back in the days we did this shit for fun now we're number one
Skill, mad skills, nine or ten years of tears
Some niggas invaded your stereo with the 12-track-scenario
And KC came up with his own record label
Stone Records fool putting that dope on your tables
We got's to keep it strong and keep it black check out this track
My cousin Jazzie Redd took the breather now he's back
I'm back to wreck shop and you don't stop
To the hibbit-to-hibbit-to-the-hop
Nigga respect your elder
I'm slamming all this platinum
I'm fattenin' them and niggas be talkin' all this this-and-that 'n' um
Achoo, god bless you
Here cuz take this tissue
And let me pick up the slack for all them niggas that used to diss you
Back in 84 and 86 we was starlight
Locals read our vocals got respect on the miz-ic
Ooooh child, things are getting a little easier
Some day things will get brighter
But not for you motherfucker cuz you're fucking with the mobsters
The 4th ward lynch mob and the rhyming street players
The west [?] boys on Valentine and might rob ya
It's all about 4th ward because we're the hip-hop mobsters
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Ice-Ike & Jazzie Redd]
My shit is strictly underground my style is [?] spandex
Stone Records is the label these niggas signing my checks
I got's to watch my back out here a nigga might try to kill me
But 4th ward has got my back, uh do you feel me
I'm coming up strong like Michael Jordan when he's dunkin'
And shooting the middle finger at these niggas that I'm punkin'
The scheme I scream I mean its straight up hella dope I dealt ya
I kill them motherfuckers like I did in Helter Skelter
[?] with these lyrical swisher sweets
My dope will get you higher than that shit that's on the streets
Believe that, really though
And check it as I flex it
Ice-Ike [?] skills to this record
And gaining respect from niggas that can't even say they know me
And straight up spitting game for my partners and my homies
[?] that I'm hot
I got's to get some love to my partner Victor Scott
[?]
And bustas I'ma burn them, oh you know I burn them
Cuz ninety percent of the rappers today are thieves, crooks, and robbers
I wonder who'll be the next nigga to get his ass [?]
...
Check it
Check yourself or maybe you want me to wreck yourself done proper
My skills is [?] on the microphone [?]
Schooling always ruling yo Ice hell they got me bent
Spent 11 years perfecting my rhymes and I ain't made a cent
But now in 94 I'm paid pockets stay on swole
Niggas and hoes that wasn't down I put they ass on hold
Hip-Hop mobbin' that's the shit you hearin' on track 11
With a gang of motherfuckers in the studio, just buggin'
Vocal pitches deep still I creep through the ghetto
Rhyme style is wild still I roam through the meadow
Platinum album plus my fuckin' single even went gold
I am a dope fiend, nope that style is old
I just kick back and concentrate on the new
Give love to my crew
And drink a beer or two
I wanna send a shoutout to my man [?]
He came a long way since the days at Rap-A-Lot
[?] if you can see how Stone Records act a fool
We doin' this shit for you on the cool we feel you fool
Niggas and hoes be trippin' watch your style or they might rob ya
But we got mad skills and they can't fuck with the Hip-Hop mobsters
