[P. Diddy]

10 years...



Yo the sun don't shine forever but as long as its here then we might as well shine togeher

Better now than never business before pleasure

P-Diddy and the Fam, who you know do it better?

Yeah right, no matter what, we air tight

So when you hear somethin, make sure you hear it right

Don't make a ass outta yourself, by assumin

My music keeps you movin, what are you provin?

You know that I'm two levels above you baby

Hug me baby, I'ma make you love me baby

It's ten years and we still runnin this motherfucker



[P. Diddy]

Yeah!



[B.I.G.]

One



[P. Diddy]

As we procede to give you what you need!



[B.I.G.]

One...Two!



[P. Diddy]

It's all fucked up now!



[50 Cent]

Yo!



[P. Diddy]

What the fuck yaw gonna do now?



[50 Cent]

Yo, we can't stay alive forever

So if shit hit the fan then we might as well die together

I'm high as ever, more hoes and more cheddar

G-Unit move around wit them pounds and berreta's

Yea faggot, if I want it I'm gon' have it

Regardless if it's handed to me or I gotta grab it

Don't make a ass outta yaself tryin to stop me

I'm cocky, raps rocky, nigga you sloppy

You know that I'm, 8 levels above you nigga

I'll club you nigga, I never heard of you nigga, ugly nigga

I'm the wrong one to provoke

And rattin on niggas is only gon' leave you smoke

So the only thing left now is toast for these cowrads

I got no friends, fuck most of these cowards

They pop shit 'till we start approaching these cowards

While we lay around dollars, they lay around flowers



[B.I.G.]

In The Commision, you ask for permission to hit em

He don't like me, him and wild wifey was wit em

You heard of us, the murderers, most shady

Been on the low lately, the feds hate me

The son of Satan, they say my killin's too blatant

You hesitatin, I'm in your mama crib waitin

Duct tapin, your fam destiny

Lays in my hands, gat lays in my waist

Francis, M to the iz-H phenominal

Gun rest under your vest by the abdominal

Rhyme a few bars so I can buy a few cars

And I kick a few flows so I can pimp a few hoes

Excellence is my presence, never tense

Never hesitant, leave a nigga bent real quick

Real sick, brawl nights, I perform like Mike

Anyone -- Tyson, Jordan, Jackson

Action, pack guns, ridiculous

And I'm, quick to bust, if my ends you touch

Kids or girl you touch, in this world I clutch

Two auto-matoes, used to call me fatso

Now you call me Castro, my rap flows

Militant, y'all faggots ain't killin shit

Ooops Cristal keep spillin shit, you overdid it homes

You in the danger zone, you shouldn't be alone

Hold hands and say it like me

The most shady, Frankie baby, fantastic

Graphic, tryin to make dough, like Jurassic

Park did quick to spark kids who start shit

See me, only me

The Underboss of this holocaust

Truly yours, Frank White



[Chorus: Busta Rhymes]



We got the real live shit from front to back

To my people in the world, where the hell you at?

Where my soldiers is at? [2X]

Where my real live my soldiers?

Where my soldiers is at?



[P. Diddy]

You know it can't stay dark for long

They say its darkest before the dawn

Cars before the storm

I'm happy makes a bethus now preaching the song

I can see B.I. rocking the Sean John yeah right

This is for life afters like B.I. Frank White

Yo Bad Boy for life

No matter what the public say we gon prove

There aint another MC who could feel ya shoes

Cuz Biggie Smalls is the illest

Realest my stones and killas got homes and villas

Overseas and what was me I find out

Who found out other MCs been tryin to find ya route

This illman MC used to be on other shit

Took home "Life after Death" and they studied it

Listened to the double disk

Now they all spit like they all legit

Frank tell how we did!



[B.I.G.]

We got the shit, Mac tight, brass knuckles and flashlights

The heaters in the two-seaters, with two midas

Senoritas, kiss rings when you meet us

P-Diddy run the city, show no pity

I'm the witty one, Frank's the crook from the Brook'

Matty broke the neck of your coke connect

No respect squeeze off til all y'all diminish

Shootouts for twenty minutes, until we finish

Venice took the loot, escaped, in the Coupe

Break bread, with the kiss, Peniro, sheek loops

Black Rob joined the mob, it ain't no replacin him

Niggaz step up, we just macin them

Placin them in funerals, criminals turned aroused

The Brick City, nobody come off like P-Diddy

Businesswise, I play men

Hide money on the Island Cayman, y'all just betray men

You screamin, I position, competition

Nother day in the life of the Comission



[Lloyd Banks]

I got a intergangstress who argue and steams wit reefer

And who flip when I call a bitch like she Queen Latifah

Not all the vehicle's is long enough to stash the streetsweeper

This shit can get uglier than the Master P sneaker

We slidin through the ruckus, wit prada on the chuckus

Soon as spring break ho's home from college wanna fuck us

I ain't here to drop knowledge on you suckas

I'll sick rottweiler's on you fuckas, cops followin to cuff us

Top dollars to discuss this, whole lotta zeros

When it comes to paper I blow a soul outta aero

I'ma break before I lay floor burried

Besides, every rapper ain't a star, nigga plad ain't burberry

You can't tame Lloyd, smokin by the big screen

You changin the channel looks like I'm playin the game boy

I know to watch botherin ya vision

You reach and I'll put a dot on ya head like its part of yo religion

Why party wit a pigeon?

I'm blowin a 10 cuz Bush handin flyers for a party in a prison

I'm in the gucci vest wit the green and red straps

I'm the last rapper to scare niggas since Craig Mack

Now every morning's a fast start

And there aint problem gettin dressed cuz my closet got more aisles than pathmark

Run, when we startin a wave

And leave wit 12 shells in ya mouth like a carton of eggs

I'm the young pimp pardon my age

I don't got long hair but if I did she be partin my braids

Niggas find what club they at

Take 'em wit us, and run a train on 'em like a subway mac

Get advances from grey Acura

See these record labels got most artists gettin fucked like the gay rappa'

I go the college on the tour

I'm goin down in history nigga, next to Wallace and Shakur

I keep ya ammo clean, text polished in the drawer

Camera's by the hamper that mine into the floor

By now, you probably heard of me

Fresh outta surgery, flashy as a fuck, you gon' have to murder me

Burglary, I'm leavin wit cha nike's bergendy, White T, bergendy

You match now, back down

Niggas love to hate you, but love you when you disappear

Catch me on the boat wit weed smoke and fishing gear

Heavy when I toke, C notes from different years

Besly in the robe, re-motes for liftin chairs

You ain't rich, but we glad to snatch ya

I send cars to crib like I'm a cab dispatcha

You better off wit ya stupid guys, lookin for a coupe to drive

You ain't gettin nuttin but ya french fries supersized

It's a damn shame y'all still local

I'm in a million dollar studio layin my vocals

Nigga



[Chorus (x3): Busta Rhymes]



We got the real live shit from front to back

To my people in the world, where the hell you at?

Where my soldiers is at? [2X]

Where my real live my soldiers?

Where my soldiers is at?



[Busta Rhymes]

Whe got the real live shit!



What yaw niggas wanna do?








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