fleitzbook

(Scarface featuring Jay-Z & Beanie Sigel - “Guess Who’s Back?”)

[Verse 1 - Jay-Z]
”Guess who’s bizack?
You still smelling crack in my clothes
Don’t make me have to relapse on these hoes
Take it back out to taxing them roads
When I was huggin it, niggas couldn’t do nuttin’ with it
Straight from the oven with 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 niggas can’t fuck with me
I’m calling guts every time, drag my nuts everytime
Homey, we make a great combination don’t we?
Me and the Face Mob, every time we face-off
Face it y’all, y’all niggas playing 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!

[Hook]
Guess who’s bizack?
Back on the block with them O’s
Face Mob, Mack Mittens and Hov’
Don’t make me relapse
Back to the block with the four
Cause this street shit is all I know

[Verse 2 - Scarface]
From the womb to the tomb - a hot pot of joy and a spoon
Trying to 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 niggas a break, nah, you know how the game go
Fuck you think I slang for, to go against the grain (no)
I’m out here in grind mode, wrapped up in the paper chase
I wanna fuck a fine ho and candy paint the 88
Don’t got no wholesale, cause 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 fo’ shizzle my nizzle
Ya block warm, then I come by with the fizzle
And make fo’ sho’ I get to work mines, for part of the time
We go to war and you ain’t making a dime (ha ha!)
Cuz I got, shit to lose - a nigga out here paying his dues
My baby walking gotta get him some shoes
It’s a new game doing, lemme give ya the rules
Get outta line and I’mma give ya the blues
It’s a new game doing, lemme give ya the rules
Get outta line and I’mma give ya the blues, whoa!

[Verse 3 - Beanie Sigel]
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 gas get clipped
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 old box-spring
Pissy mattress shit, low old box of things
Strictly glassy shit - I hug the block like quarter water
Shit I used to hug a corner like a old deuce and a quarter
Till like deuce in the morning, with the old heads
Slangin loose quarters, this Philly cat back at it (had it)
Still fucking with them crack addicts
Still busting with that black-matic”

this was the very first song i listened too when I got to drive by myself in my first car! I planned it. and it was pretty fucking glorious, if i do say so myself. boyyy i sure thought I was the coolest guy blaring these outta my car speakers. 

(Source: argylelanvin)

(Empire of the Sun- “Walking on a Dream”)

“Walking on a dream
How can I explain
Talking to myself
Will I see again?

We are always running for the thrill of it, thrill of it
Always pushing up the hill, searching for the thrill of it
On and on and on we walk calling out, out again
Never looking down im just in awe in whats infront of me

Is it real now
When two people become one
I can feel it
When two people become one

Thought i’d never see
The love you found in me
Now it’s changing all the time
Living in a rhythm where the minute’s working over time

We are always running for the thrill of it, thrill of it
Always pushing up the hill, searching for the thrill of it
On and on and on we walk calling out, out again

Never looking down im just in awe in whats infront of me

Is it real now
When two people become one
I can feel it
When two people become one

Is it real now
When two people become one
I can feel it
When two people become one

Catch me im falling down
Catch me im falling down

Don’t stop just keep going on
Im your shoulder, lean upon
So come on deliver from inside
All we got is tonight that is right till first light

Is it real now
When two people become one
I can feel it
When two people become one

Is it real now
When two people become one
I can feel it
When two people become one

gah i sure do miss this whole blogging thing. I wish i had the free time to get back on here. kinda Felt like I was happier when i did. Nowadays i’m flustered with working mornings, taking evening classes, and trying to keep up with basketball, and on top of that, giving my best to be a good boyfriend. It may not seem like it, but it’s definitely a tough job. 

On another note, I have recently found out that my job will no longer be open on Sundays. Now i’m thinkin that this could be a good thing, but also a bad. Even though i sure could use the money, I think this might be the escape i’ve been longing for. I could use this time to rest up, have a day to think and chill all on my own, go to church, etc…. pretty much do anything where I can just relax and let go for once.

ooooh, i can’t freaking wait! Until then, I’ll probably be slaving my life away in one way or another. 

(Wale- “Jump”[freestyle])

[Intro: Wale]
Look, we gone have some fun tonight
My name is Dub-A-L-E
I love this shit knocking , I let this shit knock yeah, Shorty hear it knocking, She suck it through my boxers

[Verse 1: Wale]
Don’t try to compare this to anything you ever heard
Thinking about who the fuck your nigga gone serve
Riding that big body, shorty be hitting the curb
Blowing that money here, making money in Europe
Bonjour the broke, whole squad abroad
Now I get layed-off, noticed y’all unemployed
 fuck with your boy, I can make you some money
passing me blunts, bitches passing me 
They was calling me legend, Before they called me a rookie
They was calling the feds, now they call me for bookie
Y’all slumming, summer coming, I think its time to cook up
You hold her money down, Im her hook up
Wild nigga, foul nigga how am I’m so efficient
I witness all you niggas, but I’m in no position
I undertaker kill it, I Hulk Hogan rip it
Super high, superfly Snuka Under A Nigga
Popping something thats forbidden and every single fifty
Droppin jackets on the stripper and every single is fifty
I’m addicted to pretty women addicted to winning
I get that facebook, your position is pending
Stop it, love it when a girl stay jocking, they hawking
They Josh Smith And Crawford
They calling me often to offer me walls
I hit you from rewind it’d be hard to move forward
Todd up at Warner, Joey up at Warner
Got a new deal bitch and this is just a warning performance
Real light jab to opponents
My rap isn’t fast but I have been the coldest
Glad that you noticed, cash in the Moncler coat a nigga hold it
Nigga so focused, shout out that ? a quarter six forty
Evidence shades man they go for six forty
Gifted flow but not Christmas, Sobered Up, sick shit, pimp shit to get you to notice
Double M-G nigga please smell the folgers, the beat should be covered by the fleas and the vulture
Over, killed it, branded I Felt her, the man isn’t needed like a tan on a Delta
Blue suade seats no Elvis, smoke niggas by the nuggets, Go Felton, Go Felton