I Reps

Lyrics

[Intro: DJ Clue] William, nigga Yeah, DJ Clue, Desert Storm You know how we do things Q-U-double E-N Radio And the question of the day Is who, and what you rep? Caller number one, you on the line [Verse 1: Prodigy] Ayo its P, big chunky forty inch chains I could fuck your woman, but I prefer brains (Uh-huh) I could duff you out with guns and bang I'm a certified, bonafied, Mobb nigga man This ain't no '87 rap battle (Nah) This is 2001, blood sport, nigga I'll get at you (Get 'em) This is criminal shit, I'm so infamous I'm so gangsta, these niggas be nervous When we pop up, your knees lock up (What?) Your stomach catch butterflies and your heart pumps (What?) You s'posed to be scared, you s'posed to beware When you see me, get the fuck out my way, nigga, I'm in here (Faggots) And I ain't come for the glamour and glitz (Nah) I came to fuck you up bad, get drunk and find me a bitch (That's right) So where you at, girl? Holla at the kid (Holla, holla) 'Fore I slay one of these lame niggas in here, straight up [Interlude: DJ Clue] Yeah Caller number two You on the line [Verse 2: Queen Pen] I got some raps for the streets, my niggas pack the heat My soldiers on the corner crushin' up green weed For all of the generations of mothers ridin' the trains To work for y'all crackers for that bullshit pay I reps for my head that cop his weight That take trips uptown just to cop his haze I rep for them chicks givin' brain in the rain That ain't scared to be a freak, for the right pay I gots to rep for my families that's stricken with pain For buryin' they boys too soon to this game I rep for my panthers that's locked away Innocent on death row, countin' down them days I rep for y'all bitches that work lizzie bags That sell hot shit half price off the tag I rep for them chicks that write they own shit That live this life I live to write they own shit Its 2001, bitch, stop frontin' I rep for my baby mamas that's still walkin' I rep for them chicks collectin' PA and WIC Up in them hair and nail spots makin off the book chips I rep body snatchers, loyalty over passion I'm married to BS, bitch, ain't no question [Interlude: Cam'ron & DJ Clue] Killa, uh, uh (Haha, get at me) Caller number three, you on the line (Killa, uh) [Verse 3: Cam'ron] I rep money get, girls step like, "Cam you rock a lotta Prada" Looked at hon' and said, "Bitch, I'm 'bout a dollar", holla I don't like it anyway, I feel Escada's hotter Won't get a, get a good dog, got her, got her Course Cam is into links and clips Jay say, "Belvedere," now y'all drinkin the shit, please Oh my god, brother, followin' is not gutter It's amazin', trendsetters from you cock suckers Insurance on my diamonds, my rocks covered If I'm with a bitch, believe me I do not love her I'ma wrap it like a doobie or spliff My Uzi a click, yeah, I did a movie, a flick But I step to the director like, "Look, I'm not bitchin'" Understand this, homeboy, I'm not snitchin' Killa Cam still be back in the hood Back where I should, plus I can act that good I could cook that coke, get them figures I could bust that gat, strip some niggas No homo, 'cause my life ain't no motion picture Motion triggers to open livers, cock the pump Pop the trunk, I drive 'em to the ocean, nigga Peel 'em apart, let 'em know he dealin' with sharks Killa, P-Double, Queen Pen, Lee Low [Outro: DJ Clue] Yeah, DJ Clue You know how we do things Q-U-double E-N Radio And the question of the day What you rep?