Free download
Who I be? I be, I-B-E!
Song Info
Genre
Charts
Peak #1,684
Peak in subgenre #194
Author
Written by Ibe Wazir
Uploaded
March 15, 2005
Track Files
MP3
MP3 4.1 MB • 128 kbps • 4:30
Lyrics
Verse1:
This is Ibe Wazir in your speakers, turn dat sh** up
Once again I repeat, turn dat sh** up
I’m on fire burnin’ slow like the weed in my blunt
And I’m not the n*** to call if you’re needin’ a front
I got a pussy in my own hood, tryna hide out
And when I see him I won’t hesitate to pull the knife out
Or get my n*** z on the phone, cause they love to ride out
Tell ‘em that Mathis family needs wiped out
If you hear this anytime soon, you know where I live
Your sister said you moved when you live in the same crib
How hood is that? Sounds like a b*** to me
That’s why you 250 a QP, I’m pounds for free
I think it’s my fault for helpin’ n*** z out when they struggle
When I beat him down, I’m not helpin’ him out when he struggles
For that last breath of life, I’ve read this twice
And I have no remorse n*** , peep the chorus
Chorus:
I’m wanted, Dead or Alive
I’m wanted, Dead or Alive
Verse 2:
“Yeah, you can be all big and stocky
But not even a red octagon can stop me”
I never talk sh** , I rap sh** up
My “Big Dog” in that Pontiac will clap sh** up
Burn ‘em, turn these chickens to extra crisp
Have they heads spinnin’ lookin’ like the exorcist
I’m at your do’ with the 4-5, sayin’ what’s up
Look, I learned to gangbang listenin’ to Kurupt
So I stay on the block makin’ money the hard way
The best in the game, give a f*** what y’all say
I flip bricks b*** , I ain’t timid
And The Realist motha f*** a is not no gimmick
It was a name given cause the way I’m spittin’
And keepin’ my sh** real about how I’m livin’
I’m guaranteed to kill it
And I don’t need to give n*** z cavity searches for dat ass to feel it
Nah, I just say what I feel, stay wit the steel
The only option in this game’s to play or get killed
It’s up to you dogg however you want it
But before you come at me remember I tried to warn ya
(Chorus)
Verse3:
“Ha ha ha, y’all are never gonna catch me
Cops are too scared to even attempt to arrest me”
n*** z think they really in control wit that thang cocked
Till they need metal plates put in they face like Wayne Watts
Next time, don’t wait to make that tool pop
So you won’t be on that receiving end of a toolbox
Filled wit bricks, he squealed and sh**
Told his cousin the pig, his grill got split
Now a 50,000 dollar bond’s posted for bail
Go to Carroll Country again, you goin’ to jail
That’s a story and message for my boy Tarik
Whose life introduced his little bruh to the streets
When that n*** got stabbed, and he felt that burn
We could’ve took that situation as a lessoned learned
But instead we got him stitched up, then went on a hunt
Wit that sawed off shotty in the back of the trunk
Wit sh** nowadays, you can’t roll wit punks
I picked up some new friends, got rid of the chumps
It’s hard tryna separate the real from the fake
And it can get a little crazy when your life’s at stake
But the best method of learnin’ is off of mistakes
So take caution with ev-er-y decision you make
Fore you end up in the pen doin’ life behind bars
Or just shot the f*** up, with permanent scars
(Chorus)
