What We Do (feat. JAY-Z & Beanie Sigel)

Man, if I get rocked, this shit for my kids, ****

It's that real shit

Even though what we do is wrong

We still hustle till the sun come up

Crack a 40 when the sun go down

It's a cold winter, y'all **** better bundle up

And I bet it be a hotter summer, grab a onion

Yes, the ROC gets down

You hot now, listen up

Don't you know cops' sole purpose is to lock us down?

And throw away the key

But without this drug shit, your kids ain't got no way to eat, huh?

We still try to keep mom smilin'

'Cause when her teeth stop showin'

And her stomach start growlin', then the heat start flowin'

If you from the hood, I know you feel me (Keep goin')

If a sneak start leanin' and the heat stop workin'

Then my heat start workin', I'ma rob me a person

Catch a **** sleepin' while he out in the open

And I'ma get him (Keep flowin')

We gotta raise our kids while we livin'

Make a million off a record, bail my **** outta prison

Fuck a Bentley or a Lexus, just my boys in the squatter

**** talk reckless then I hit 'em with the Smith 'n

But I'm never snitchin', I'm a rider

If my kids hungry, snatch the dishes out ya kitchen

I'll be wildin' till they pick me out a line-up

Even though what we do is wrong

We keep the nines tucked, chopped dimes up, rap about it

Wild out, fuck **** up, laugh about it

I'm not tryna visit the morgue

But Freeway move out till I sit with the Lord

Till I get my shit together, clean up my sins

Freeway got it in like 10:00 in the morning

And I can get it to ya, like ten while you yawning, mane

Even though what we do is wrong

Still deliver the order, mane

And I ain't talkin' 'bout chicken and gravy, mane

I'm talkin' 'bout bricks of yayo, halves and quarters

Four and a halves of hash, you do the math

Swing past us, scoop up your daughter

She wanna roll with a thug that rap, you do the math

He gon' blast till my stacks in order, mane

Mane, let me get 'em Free

Hov never slacking, mane, zipping in the black Range

Faster than the red ghost, getting ghost with Pac-Man

One-time know I got a knack to get that change

Leader of the black gang, R-O-C, mane

Bang like T-Mac, ski mask, air it out

Gotta kill witnesses 'cause Free's beard's sticking out

Y'all don't want to witness shit, we squeeze hammers, mane

Bullets breeze by you like Louisiana, mane

But I gotta feed Tianna, mane

So I move keys, you can call me the Piano Man

Rain, sleet, hail, snow, mane

Slang dope, E, hydro, mane

You know B. Sige' in the third lane

Gramps still praying, working on my nerves, mane

Like, "Son you gotta get your soul clean

Before they blow them horns like Coltrane"

But still, I cry tears of a hustler

Wipe tears from my mother, pour out beers for our brothers

That's above us, make beds for the babies

Tuck kids under covers, buy cribs for their mothers

Shit, I'll probably be wilding with their fathers

Tell Ms. Robert, tell Anajmah that I'm riding for her father

That's like my brother, like same mother, different father

Any problems, dawg, know I got 'em

And still, we grind from the bottom

Just to make it to the bottom, sold crack in the alleyways

Still gave back Marcy on Dollar Day

Real gangstas make hood holidays

They ain't thank us but we still paid homage, mane

Soul Food Sunday looking like Big Momma's, mane

Tell the gang I never break my promise, mane, mane, uh

Even though what we do is wrong

Even though what we do is wrong