Guess Who'S Back (Feat. Jay-Z & Beanie Sigel)

Talk to me man
It's your boy Young Hov if you turn the motherfucking noise up
We can get right into the proceedings this evening

The headphones is distorting, bring it down a little bit
Okay
Now we working with it
The boy face of the baseline baby
(Facemob!)
Welcome to New York City
It's your boy Young Hov
Kanye West on the track
Chi-Town, what's goin' on now

Can I talk to y'all for a minute
Let me talk to y'all for a minute
Just give me a minute of your time baby
I don't want much
Let me talk to these motherfuckers

Guess who's bizzack
You still smell the crack in my clothes
Don't make me have to relapse on these hoes
Take it back out, get taxed in the road
When I was huggin' it, niggas couldn't do nothing with it
Straight from the oven with it, came from the dirt
I emerged from it all without a stain on my shirt

You could blame my old earth for the shit she instilled in me
Still with me, pain plus work
Shit she made me milk this game for all it's worth
That's right, these niggas can't fuck with me

I'm calling guts every time, crack my nuts every time homie

We make a great combination, don't we
Me and the Facemob, every time we face off

Face it y'all, y'all niggas playing basic ball
I'm on the block like I'm eight feet tall
Homie, I'm in the drop with the AC off
That's why the streets embrace me dog, I'm so cool

Guess who's bizzack
Back on the block with them O's
Facemob, Mack Mittens and Hov
Don't make me relapse
Back to the block with the four
'Cause this street shit is all I know

From the womb to the tomb
A hot pot of joy and a spoon
Tryna make me forty thousand and move
Motels, star-studded, rock stars and goons
Plain clothes wanna run in my room

But nigga, guess who's bizzack
It's your boy Facemob, started with an 8-ball
Gotta get this cake dog, give niggas a break? Nah
You know how the game go, fuck you think I slang for
To go against the grain? Nope, I'm out here in grind mode
Wrapped up in a paper chase
I wanna fuck a fine ho and candy paint the '88
Don't got no wholesale 'cause that ain't how I wanna run it
Here, take these five stones and bring a nigga back a hundred
Gotta see my feet dude, you do shit a fiend do

If I get too hot in the kitchen, I hit the streets fool
Money is an issue, and that's on the fo' shizzle my nizzle
Yo block warming, I come by with the fizzle
And make for sure I get to work mine, a car at a time
We go to war and you ain't making a dime

'Cause I got shit to lose, a nigga out here paying his dues
My baby walking, gotta get him some shoes
It's a new game brewing, let me give you the rules
Get outta line and I'ma give you the blues

It's a new game brewing, let me give you the rules
Get outta line and I'ma give you the blues

Guess who's bizzack, the boy B mizzack

AKA Mr. Crack-a-Brick
Turn a whole one from a half a brick
Look, I mastered this
You can smell it once the plastic rip
Hot plate'll make you swell up
If your gasket clip, you can make your chips swell up
You don't have to pitch
Play them corners like a safety, watch the traffic switch
Youngin', never pump fake and you'll get past the blitz
And keep your whole hood on flip

Like old box-spring, pissy mattress shit
No, won't box a thing, strictly blast and shit
I hug the block like quarter water
Shit, I used to hug the corner like an old deuce and a quarter
'Til like deuce in the morning with the old heads
Slinging loose quarters, this Philly cat back at it
Still fucking with them crack addicts
Still bussing with that black Patek

Guess who's bizzack
Back on the block with them O's
Facemob, Mack Mittens and Hov
Don't make me relapse
Back to the block with the four
'Cause this street shit is all I know