Guess Who's Back Lyrics - Beanie Sigel

Talk to me man 

This ya boy Young Hova, yo turn the muh'fuckin noise up 

We'll get right into the proceedings this evening 

Headphones are distortin', bring it down a lil' bit 

Okay, now we workin' wit' it 

The boy Face on the baseline, Face Mob 

Welcome to New York City, it's ya boy Young Hov' chea 

Kanye West on the track, Chi-Town, what's goin' on now? 

Can I talk to y'all for a minute? Lemme talk to y'all for a minute 

Just gimme a minute of ya time baby, I don't want much 

Lemme talk to these muh'fuckas, lemme talk to these muh'fuckas 

Lemme talk, lemme talk, lemme talk to these muh'fuckas 

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Guess who's bizack? You still smellin' crack in my clothes 

Don't make me have to relapse on these hoes 

Take it back down to taxin' them roads 

When I was huggin' it, niggaz couldn't do nuttin' wit' it 

Straight from the oven wit' 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 niggaz can't fuck with me 

I'm callin' guts every time, drag my nuts every time 

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 niggaz playin' 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 

Photos 

Guess who's bizack? 

Back on the block with the old Face Mob 

Mack Mittens and Hov' 

Don't make me relapse 

Back to the block with the fo' 

'Cause this street shit is all I know 

From the womb to the tomb a hot pot of joy and a spoon 

Tryna make me forty thousand and move 

Motels, star-studded, rock stars and goons 

Plain clothes wanna run in my room 

And guess who's, guess who's bizack? It's ya boy Face Mob 

Started with an eight ball, gotta get this cake dawg 

Give niggaz a break, nah, you know how the game go 

Fuck you think I slang fo', to go against the grain 

I'm out, I'm out here to grind mo', rapped up in the paper chase 

I wanna fuck a fine hoe 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 fa' shizzle my nizzle 

Ya block warm, then I come by with the fizzle 

And make fa' sho' I get to work mines, for part of the time 

We go to war and you ain't makin' a dime 

'Cause I got, shit to lose a nigga out here payin' his dues 

My baby walkin' gotta get him some shoes 

It's a new game doin', lemme give ya the rules 

Get outta line and I'm a give ya the blues 

It's a new game doin', lemme give ya the rules 

Get outta line and I'm a give ya the blues 

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 will make ya swell up if ya gasket clicked 

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 on box-spring 

Pissy Mack and shit, low old box of things 

Strictly glassy shit I hug the block like a quart of water 

Shit I used to hug a corner like a old deuce and a quarter 

Till like deuce in the mornin', with the old heads 

Slangin' loose quarters, this Philly cat back gatted 

Still fuckin' with them crack addicts 

Still bustin' with that black-matic 

Guess who's bizack? 

Back on the block with the old Face Mob 

Mack Mittens and Hov' 

Don't make me relapse 

Back to the block with the fo' 

'Cause this street shit is all I know