Spliff-N-Wessun lyrics

[Intro: Sean Price]
Yeah, Sean P
Nahmean? On Kingston Ave, with Crown Heights' best MC
You know, Ruste Juxx
Haha, yeah, check it out, ready?
Ayo, ayo, listen

[Verse 1: Sean Price]
It go stop with the bullsh*t
Playing-game n*ggas hopscotch when the tool click
Don't make me pop ya
Ya black eye blue, b*tch, Frank Sinatra
You see ST and you be thinking rasta
Think it's peace and love but I think he'll drop ya
Fake gangsta rappers got you thinkin' mobster
It's a fact you an actor, thinking Oscars, yo
That's when I slap this j*rk
Take his Jesus piece, send him back to Catholic church
n*ggas actin' like my motherf*ckin' gat don't work
'Til you hit and then collapse in the dirt and screamin', "That sh*t hurt"
Motherf*ckin' right, that sh*t hurt
n*ggas play tackle football with a plastic Nerf
b*tches with dreadlocks and drapes on they back
Suck di*k, plus they make biscuits from scratch

[Verse 2: Ruste Juxx]
Yo, yo, yo
n*ggas dial 9-1-1
I tote a Smith Wess' 1-9-9-1
.45s and P229's
Storyline, it begins once upon a crime
Rustee Juxx in the gutter like stashed crack
Any block, any b*tch, I'ma smash that
Yo, yo, ayo f*ck Force 1s, Juxx stomping in Gore-Tex
Blaze up crucial, warp me through a vortex
Side street, Brooklyn playa-listic
Mossberg music, duke, don't get it twisted
[Interlude: Sean Price acting like Brother J from X-Clan]
Ah, vainglorious
This is protected by the B, the C, and the C
Sissies
P
Yo, yo

[Bridge: Sean Price & Ruste Juxx]
Ayo I shine, you shine
In this day and time, we pop off ya' head with the nine
Nah, we not soft, go 'head with the lies
Duke, you a knockoff, ya thread and designs is
Off the table
I'm dead broke, n*gga - they cuttin' off my cable

[Verse 3: Ruste Juxx]
The criminal of the year, yeah I'm back to rob
So take ya shine off when you see me on the job
Due to the MAC, I'm strapped, ready to clap
React, stop runnin' ya yap, and run ya stack
Jaw-carryin' chop and blow gems
Slash you in ya Benz with stop-and-go rims
Pumpin' on the block, them rocks that glow stems
And I'm rollin' on 10s the size of my Timbs

[Verse 4: Sean Price]
Let me get a turkey sandwich and a bottle of juice, please
A dollar change left? f*ck it, give me two loosies
We ain't got no trap
Three songs, one session, it's econo-rap
[Verse 5: Ruste Juxx]
Spit, rip a n*gga ass, raw rap on the reg'
Catch me in the weed spot, clicking on the dread
See me in the flesh, real liftin' ya chain
All you feel is the flame, fifth in ya frame
In the cut wit' ya b*tch, feelin' up on her butt and her tits
She wanna f*ck but she can start suckin' this di*k
I got a clique that move more crowds than Eric B
With a shotgun, air hole TEC and Desert Eag'