Nástroje
Ensembles
Genres
Skladatelé
Umělci

Texty: Made Man. Black Friday. A Few Good Niggas.


[Mann Terror:]
Ain't no mistaken you see my chain you know who I'm with
Made niggas banging them hits, you banging them fist
With just a few good niggas, we can make this doe
And with a few good heaters, we can make some more
You only get something hot when you face the mob
Probably blow a whole job with Escobar
From the fiend up in NY that can't be stiffed
Fucking with my dawgs only get you rained through quick
So much ice in my jewels I can be from Bedrock
And I smoke that weed that put your brain in headlock
Wanna be a witness nigga you can witness this!
Four fevers straight to your wig splitting your shit
Niggas hate you if you make it, so they pray you fail
Petty bitches run their mouth, Jake want you in jail
That's the life of a Made Men, tighten the game plan
Come through and bomb things, we either hang men

[Chorus: Ray Benzino]
It takes a few good niggas just to set it off
Watch your back, squeeze triggers then we let it off
We're annoyed by the fact nigga's telling too much
It's a shame how these nigga's always jelling in such
You can't handle the truth, the words that we speak
It's time for us to separate the strong from the weak
Gangsta real shit from beginning to the end
(Nas to QB), Boston Made Men, (What?)

[Nas:]
Fuck around lay around nigga

Yo as the blunt hangs low from my defiant lips
Smoke emerge in the shape of halo's the chronic's lit
My hoes are pornographic, flow's orgasmic
Doe stacking, strict as Joe Jackson training five kids to blow
Fraction of my mind died years ago, miserable drunk
Beers at most, swung at by school principal then I flunk
Peace to my foes who really took it dead with the beef
Peace to them hoes who left their pussy hairs in my teeth
I've proposed to the street corners, heat on us to clap the phony
Thug matrimony, champions like Shaq and Kobe
Porno stars hoes like, Nairobi Knight wanna fuck us
It's ruckus, water bed half the niggas can't touch us
Seen it happen to the best, clap to their death
I tell you no lies, you ask me, no questions
Look at my eyes, pupils are neutral
To the shit my body done, I shot lots of guns
.22's, .45's to none, to murder a Virgo
Spooky bitches try reading my chart
I sleep with lights on, grown and scared of the dark
It's not because of horror movies but the art of the beast
Sparking Uzi's, rest in peace Barkin, it's war in 2G
I wish my words could resurrect Ennis Cosby
I'd make Stevie or Ray Charles see the hate that bothers me
I feel like pulling out patches of my own hair
Said the words of my friend paralyzed in his wheelchair
It's like...

[Chorus: Ray Benzino]

[L.O.:]
Born in a project hall next to a fiend smacked out
Plus my pops wasn't around and my moms was cracked out
OG's in my air trying to better my routes
Put me up on made niggas with major clout
A few of the best, nigga we're the last ones left
From Boston to Queensbridge, better grab your vest
Don't want these hot tests burning your flesh
Jealous niggas hate us to death, gorgeous ladies giving us sex
Loving and living, bank rolls, sagging my denims
D's on our dick, rather see us locked in prison
Noisy neighbors look out their windows all in our business
My man ink spots the deceased, I'm trying to stay alive
These niggas always saying dead dawg, But whose dawg dies?
It's me against the world, but I'm a hold my own
Work my way up, and soon enough I had a throne
Don't get it twisted I'm a bastard but boy I'm grown
And only fuck with a few niggas

[Chorus: Ray Benzino]

[Outro: Nas]
That's right nigga, a few good niggas
No fake niggas, only real niggas making shit happen in 2000 baby
Nas and Made Men, I love to see my niggas get money
That shit makes me feel good; I love to see niggas get money
I love to see niggas get money
A few good niggas, that's us
Black Friday