Ten Crack Commandments

Uh, it's the ten crack commandments

What, uh, uh

They can't tell me nothing about 'bout this coke

Can't tell me nothin' 'bout this crack, this weed

For my hustlin' ****

**** on the corner, I ain't forget you ****

My triple beam **** (Word up)

I been in this game for years

It made me a animal

It's rules to this shit

I wrote me a manual

A step by step booklet for you to get

You game on track

Not your wig pushed back

Rule nombre uno: never let no one know

How much dough you hold, 'cause you know

The cheddar breed jealousy, 'specially if that man fucked up

Get your ass stuck up

Number two: never let 'em know your next move

Don't you know bad boys move in silence and violence?

Take it from you highness

I done squeezed mad clips at these cats for they bricks and chips

Number three: never trust nobody

Your moms'll set that ass up, properly gassed up

Hoodied to mask up, shit, for that fast buck

She be laying in the bushes to light that ass up

Number four: know you heard this before

Never get high on your own supply

Number five: never sell no crack where you rest at

I don't care if they want an ounce tell 'em bounce

Number six: that goddamn credit, dead it

You think a crackhead paying you back? Shit forget it

Seven: this rule is so underrated

Keep your family and business completely separated

Money and blood don't mix like two dicks and no bitch

Find yourself in serious shit

Number eight: never keep no weight on you

Them cats that squeeze your guns can hold jumps, too

Number nine: shoulda been number one to me

If you ain't gettin' bagged, stay the fuck from police

If **** think you snitchin', they ain't trying listen

They be sitting in you kitchen waiting to start hitting

Number ten: a strong word called consignment

Strictly for live men, not for freshman

If you ain't got the clientele say, "Hell no"

'Cause they gon want they money rain, sleet, hail, snow

Follow these rules you'll have mad bread to break up

If not, twenty four years on the wake up

Slug hit your temple, watch your frame shake up

Caretaker did your makeup

When you pass, your girl fucked my man Jacob

Heard in three weeks she sniffed a whole half a cake up

Heard she suck a good dick and can hook a steak up

Gotta go, gotta go, more pies to bake up

Word up, uh

Crack king, Frank Bizza