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(chuck d) one two three four five six seven eight nineUhh, it's the ten crack commandmentsWhat, uhh, uhhNigga can't tell me nothin bout this coke, uh-huhCan't tell me nothin bout this crack, this weedTo my hustlin niggazNiggaz on the corner I ain't forget you niggazMy triple beam niggaz, word up(chuck d) one two three four five six seven eight nineTenI been in this game for years, it made me a animalIt's rules to this shit, I wrote me a manualA step by step booklet for you to getYour game on track, not your wig pushed backRule nombre uno: never let no one knowHow much, dough you hold, cause you knowThe cheddar breed jealousy 'speciallyIf that man fucked up, get your ass stuck upNumber two: never let em know your next moveDon't you know bad boys move in silence or violenceTake it from your highness (uh-huh)I done squeezed mad clips at these cats for they bricks and chipsNumber three: never trust no-bo-dyYour moms'll set that ass up, properly gassed upHoodie to mask up, shit, for that fast buckShe be layin in the bushes to light that ass upNumber four: know you heard this beforeNever get high, on your own supplyNumber five: never sell no crack where you rest atI don't care if they want a ounce, tell em bounceNumber six: that God damn credit, dead itYou think a crackhead payin you back, shit forget itSeven: this rule is so underratedKeep your family and business completely seperatedMoney and blood don't mix like two dicks and no bitchFind yourself in serious shitNumber eight: never keep no weight on youThem cats that squeeze your guns can hold jobs tooNumber nine shoulda been number one to meIf you ain't gettin bags stay the fuck from police (uh-huh)If niggaz think you snitchin ain't tryin listenThey be sittin in your kitchen, waitin to start hittinNumber ten: a strong word called consignmentStrictly for live men, not for freshmenIf you ain't got the clientele say hell noCause they gon want they money rain sleet hail snowFollow these rules you'll have mad bread to break upIf not, twenty-four years, on the wake upSlug hit your temple, watch your frame shake upCaretaker did your makeup, when you passYour girl fucked my man jake up, heard in three weeksShe sniffed a whole half of cake upHeard she suck a good dick, and can hook a steak upGotta go gotta go, more pies to bake up, word up, uhhCrack king, frank blizzardUhh(chuck d) one two three four five six seven eight nineTen
(chuck d) one two three four five six seven eight nineUhh, it's the ten crack commandmentsWhat, uhh, uhhNigga can't tell me nothin bout this coke, uh-huhCan't tell me nothin bout this crack, this weedTo my hustlin niggazNiggaz on the corner I ain't forget you niggazMy triple beam niggaz, word up(chuck d) one two three four five six seven eight nineTenI been in this game for years, it made me a animalIt's rules to this shit, I wrote me a manualA step by step booklet for you to getYour game on track, not your wig pushed backRule nombre uno: never let no one knowHow much, dough you hold, cause you knowThe cheddar breed jealousy 'speciallyIf that man fucked up, get your ass stuck upNumber two: never let em know your next moveDon't you know bad boys move in silence or violenceTake it from your highness (uh-huh)I done squeezed mad clips at these cats for they bricks and chipsNumber three: never trust no-bo-dyYour moms'll set that ass up, properly gassed upHoodie to mask up, shit, for that fast buckShe be layin in the bushes to light that ass upNumber four: know you heard this beforeNever get high, on your own supplyNumber five: never sell no crack where you rest atI don't care if they want a ounce, tell em bounceNumber six: that God damn credit, dead itYou think a crackhead payin you back, shit forget itSeven: this rule is so underratedKeep your family and business completely seperatedMoney and blood don't mix like two dicks and no bitchFind yourself in serious shitNumber eight: never keep no weight on youThem cats that squeeze your guns can hold jobs tooNumber nine shoulda been number one to meIf you ain't gettin bags stay the fuck from police (uh-huh)If niggaz think you snitchin ain't tryin listenThey be sittin in your kitchen, waitin to start hittinNumber ten: a strong word called consignmentStrictly for live men, not for freshmenIf you ain't got the clientele say hell noCause they gon want they money rain sleet hail snowFollow these rules you'll have mad bread to break upIf not, twenty-four years, on the wake upSlug hit your temple, watch your frame shake upCaretaker did your makeup, when you passYour girl fucked my man jake up, heard in three weeksShe sniffed a whole half of cake upHeard she suck a good dick, and can hook a steak upGotta go gotta go, more pies to bake up, word up, uhhCrack king, frank blizzardUhh(chuck d) one two three four five six seven eight nineTen
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