Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Guess Who’s Back, artist - Scarface. Date of issue: 04.10.2010
Song language: English
Guess Who’s Back |
| Talk to me man… |
| This ya boy Young Hova, yo turn the muh’fuckin noise up We’ll get right into the proceedings this evening |
| Headphones are distortin, bring it down a lil’bit |
| Okay — now we workin wit it The boy Face on the bassline, Face — Mob! |
| Welcome to New York City… it’s ya boy Young Hov’chea |
| Kanye West on the track (whoo!) Chi-Town, what’s goin on now? |
| Can I talk to y’all for a minute? |
| Lemme talk to y’all for a minute |
| Just gimme a minute of ya time baby — I don’t want much (whoo!) |
| Lemme talk to these muh’fuckas, uhh |
| Guess who’s bizack? |
| You still smellin crack in my clothes |
| Don’t make me have to relapse on these hoes |
| Take it back out to taxin them roads |
| When I was huggin it, niggaz couldn’t do nuttin wit it Straight from the oven wit it — came from the dirt |
| I emerged from it all without a stain on my shirt |
| You can 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 niggaz can’t fuck with me |
| I’m callin guts everytime, drag my nuts everytime |
| Homey, we make a great combination don’t we? |
| Me and the Face Mob, everytime we face-off |
| Face it y’all, y’all niggaz playin basic ball |
| I’m on the block like I’m eight feet tall |
| Homey, I’m in the drop with the AC on That’s why the, streets embrace me dawg, I’m so cool! |
| Guess who’s bizack? |
| Back on the block with the old Face Mob |
| Mack Mittens and Hov' |
| Don’t make me relapse |
| Back to the block with the fo' |
| Cuz 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 (whooooo…) |
| But nigga guess who’s bizack? |
| It’s ya boy Face Mob |
| Started with an eightball, gotta get this cake dawg |
| Give niggaz a break, nah, you know how the game go Fuck you think I slang fo', to go against the grain (no) |
| I’m out here to grind mo', rapped up in the paper chase |
| I wanna fuck a fine hoe and candy paint the 88 |
| Don’t got no wholesale, cuz 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 The fire get too hot in the kitchen, I hit the streets fool |
| Money is an issue — and that’s on the fa’shizzle my nizzle |
| Ya block warm, then I come by with the fizzle |
| And make fa’sho’I get to work mines, for part of the time |
| We go to war and you ain’t makin a dime (ha ha!) |
| Cuz I got, shit to lose — a nigga out here payin his dues |
| My baby walkin gotta get him some shoes |
| It’s a new game doin, lemme give ya the rules |
| Get outta line and I’ma give ya the blues |
| It’s a new game doin, lemme give ya the rules |
| Get outta line and I’ma give ya the blues, whoa! |
| Guess who’s bizack? |
| The boy B. Mizack — a.k.a. Mr. Crack-A-Brick |
| Turn a whole one from a half a brick, look I mastered this |
| You can smell it once the plastic rips |
| A hot plate’ll make ya swell up if ya gasket clicked |
| You can make ya chips swell up, ya don’t hafta pitch |
| Play them corners like a safety, watch the traffic switch |
| Young’n never pump fake, and you’ll get past the blitz |
| And keep ya whole hood on flip — like on box-spring |
| Pissy Mack and shit, low old box of things |
| Strictly glassy shit — I hug the block like a quart of water |
| Shit I used to hug a corner like a old deuce and a quarter |
| Till like deuce in the mornin, with the old heads |
| Slangin loose quarters, this Philly cat back gatted (had it) |
| Still fuckin with them crack addicts |
| Still bustin with that black-matic |