Lyrics The Biz - Mistah F.A.B.

The Biz

What would you do if ya hood was turned out
Parents burnt out
Sleepin on burnt couch
Lights turned out
PG&E bill to high
Poppa shermed out
Brotha locked in jail for life
Momma thinkin she gone owe bills for life
Its so trife
Stuck in a wind pipe
Waitin to cough
Bill collecters callin pissin u off
Sounds of buggies in ya neighborhood
And anything under a thousand cans ain’t gone do u too good
Search three days for aluminum bottles and glass
Just to get one hit
From tha bottle and glass
Young peppahs step up on the throttle and smash
Little kids die havin fun
Ran into another auto and crashed
Man its so sad
Let me take you on a trip out here
You ready?
Cause its a trip out here
Hook:
Its nothin to a boss with somthin
But its somthin to a boss with nothin
Its tipsy turvey like that
But it is what it is
Its how it goes down
Its the biz ya dig
Its somthin to a boss with nothin
But its nothin to a boss with somthin
Thats how it goes down
In my part of the map
Marksman hustlin
And everbody target is scratch
Verse II:
Rip the wrath
Plant the path
Most wish they had the seeds to
Without the cheese dude
What would a rat chase
I stack paps
Through the cracks of the black fate
Avoid cracks with the jack face
My black race runnin slow in a fast race
Because of my black face
Police crack place
Inside my phat lace
Man oakland the last place
You wanna act fake
Its real enough to see a use to be somthin
A washed up nothin
Only glory from his good years
Back in the day
Now he sip yak up on the track
And search for crack in the alley ways
These oakland cali ways
Happen every day
Hey!
Dope fiends shoot up in the telly
Gettin higher then a astronaut with a baby growin in they belly
Real smelly
Imagine that
Its real out here
Hook
Verse III:
Name a post
A block street cokaine the porch
Flame n torch
Some b quick to aim at yo throat
Some get locked up an now they got a thang in they coat
Finna lose it man they finna strangled goat
For a sacraficical fate, guys go cyco wait
Penatentray done em great now he bout to lose his faith
Some gain mind focus, somesniff linesof cokus
But thats bogus, the show gets
More excitin as u ride a vivid memory of a jail house hit
Stab up a prick for the name of ya click
Dark solitary confinement
Make ya lose ya mind, get release from stale tyme
Now u doin fine
Arguin wit ya piece of mind
Causin conflict intense react conduct
Drug in by bmb scent, a prophet to the world my mom sent
My moms only child F.A.B
Hold it down