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(Esham)
Think quick, hit me with a brick, lickety split
The quicker he flip, the quicker the whip
The turbochip, twenty-four inch dipped
Glock on the hip in the kitchen with the magican watching him mix
I don't give a fuck, somebody pull up in a cement truck
And get some bricks on my lawn, like you digging it up
It's been a droute, no doubt, trying to find a new paper route
Brick laying like a mason out there, what you about?
Grinder, baller, hustler, serving customers
Money get a hoe hitter, have him loving us
From elbows got bank rolls
And all the freshest clothes and all the coke head stank hoes
(Esham)
I was born in a dope spot, holding rocks
Folding knots, baking soda, bubble hot water and pots
Learning watch for the cops
Twenty off every hundred, five hundred is tops
But my story's untold, cause it's so out cold
Did all of this shit when I was very young
Learned to pack a gun in my early days
And the only thing on my mind was getting paid
Twenty-four-seven sitting in a spot with a mac eleven
Sniff, blow your brains out real quickly
The old people say you can go to jail for that
I got a scale for that, plus a sale for that
(TNT)
Hit me with a brick of that flakey shit
That jump back quick from one-two-five to one-five-six
I'm helluva on the mix
The fiends need a fix
Don't talk no shit
Just hit me with a brick
That's if your holding
Big figure folding
I'm rolling like Nolan
Booming like Newman in the fast lane zooming
I need a new plug cuss mine just blew, man
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