Top 10 List

(album: Hits U Missed - 2004)

At 8 you're a sucker, at 7 a motherfucker

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4
3, 2, 1 reasons you'll never be this raw
My crew is representing for BK, don't play
Or you might have to get Crime Watch around your way
Cause Brooklyn keep on taking it, still from way back
Say black, trying to get that fortune like Sajak
There must be at least twenty reasons you can't win and
In this rap game you're hopeless, here's a top ten
10's very simple and plain, it's petty crime
It's only '94 when you wrote your first rhyme
And now you think you got more skill than power tools
But never could your feet fit up in our shoes
You only got one delivery
One-dimensional rappers is dead as chivalry
Don't get your spot blown up, block sewn up
I lift MC's to tone up, rip your zone up
I got more flavors than women's douche
Make ends with Mexicans and rock dreads in Flatbush
9, you can't see mine, can't find mine
Can't do mine, step to mine, when my crew find
A fronting-ass nigga, we get in this
You don't want to get beat and boxed like Biz
You ain't wild cause you run with wild kids
Now the chorus is gonna tell you what 8 and 7 is

At 8 you're a sucker, at 7 a motherfucker

6, I bury that ass like Halle
All up on tracks like a trolley, my golly
Like Bob Marley, we jamming, by all means
And real gangsters don't talk shit in magazines
5, never judge a rapper by the song he make
Some of the coolest rapping niggas will drop your ass in a lake
And on the other hand, some of them screaming "Keep it real"
Their video's the only time they ever busted steel
4, you don't faze me, this ain't Star Trek
I know where you park your cars at, as far as that
Beef that's going on in all these spots
In parking lots, niggas pop more shit than shots
Funny, dummy, lyrics don't stun me
If I was your only pair of pants, you still couldn't run me
Out this rap game, it's I.N.C. for life
Niggas gonna know soon, cause Brownsville's trife
All up in the mix like blenders
Offenders, life enders, whatever genders, don't offend us
Coming at you, gonna catch you, and when we find you
Don't lose count, let me remind you

At 8 you're a sucker, at 7 a motherfucker

One two, one two, this be number trey
Might be in the game, but I don't think you wanna play
I'm coming with the flav, getting more rich than Bey
I say, this Master jam more than Jay
And two is, my crew is, coming with the newest
Can't do us, knock your teeth out trying to cue us
You want to step to us, come clean on the scene
Without the drama, my team making all the green
I'm in your spleen, no afro with mad sheen
In my ride, young teen girls getting mean
Every Day just like Mary J
I'm downtown Brooklyn where niggas play
The corners and blocks like street lamps, I beat champs
In rapping, leaving niggas wondering what happened
And that be the number one reason you can't flow
But bring back the other two shits to let 'em know

At 8 you're a sucker, at 7 a motherfucker