Lyrics
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine
It's the ten commandments, what?
Can't tell me nothing about this
Can't tell me nothing about this, can't tell me nothing about this, for my hustlin' (one, two, two, two)
On the corner (three, three)
I ain't forget you (one, one, two, three, four, five) my triple beam
(One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine
Ten)
I've been in this game for years, it made me a animal
There's rules to this sh, I wrote me a manual
A step-by-step booklet for you to get
Your 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 f--ed up, get yo' stuck up
Number 2: never let 'em know your next move
Don't you know Bad Boys move in silence and violence?
Take it from your highness (uh huh)
I done squeezed mad clips at these cats for they bricks and chips
Number 3: never trust nobody
Your moms'll set that -ss up, properly gassed up
Hoodied and masked up, sh-t, for that fast buck
She be laying in the bushes to light that -ss up
Number 4: I know you heard this before
"Never get high on your own supply"
Number 5: never sell no cr where you rest at
I don't care if they want a ounce, tell 'em "bounce!"
Number 6: that god credit? Dead it
You think a paying you back, forget it!
7: this rule is so underrated
Keep your family and business completely separated
Money and blood don't mix like two di--s and no bi--h
Find yourself in serious shi-
Number 8: never keep no weight on you!
Them cats that squeeze your can hold jumps too
Number 9 shoulda been Number 1 to me
If you ain't gettin' bagged stay the fu from police
If n--gas think you snitchin' they ain't trying to listen
They be sittin' in your kitchen, waiting to start hittin'
Number 10: a strong word called "consignment"
Strictly for live men, not for freshmen
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, 24 years on the wake up
Slug hit your temple, watch your frame shake up
Caretaker did your makeup, when you passed
Your girl f----d my man Jake up
Heard in three weeks she sniffed a whole half of cake up
Heard she suck a good, and can hook a steak up
Gotta go gotta go, more pies to bake up, word up (uh)
Crack King, Frank Wiz-zhite
(One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight
One, one, two, three, four, five
One, one, one, one, one, two, three, four, four, five
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine
Ten)
