Ten Crack Commandments Lyrics by Notorious B.I.G.

Ten Crack Commandments Lyrics

    [Chuck D] "One two three four five six seven eight nine"

    Uhh, it's the ten crack commandments
    What, uhh, uhh
    Nigga can't tell me nothin bout this coke, uh-huh
    Can't tell me nothin bout this crack, this weed
    To my hustlin niggaz
    Niggaz on the corner I ain't forget you niggaz
    My triple beam niggaz, word up

    [Chuck D] "One two three four five six seven eight nine"
    "TEN"

    I been in this game for years, it made me a animal
    It's rules to this shit, 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 fucked up, get your ass stuck up
    Number two: never let em know your next move
    Don't you know Bad Boys move in silence or violence
    Take it from your highness (uh-huh)
    I done squeezed mad clips at these cats for they bricks and chips
    Number three: never trust no-bo-dy
    Your moms'll set that ass up, properly gassed up
    Hoodie to mask up, shit, for that fast buck
    she be layin in the bushes to light that ass up
    Number four: know you heard this before
    Never get high, on your own supply
    Number five: never sell no crack where you rest at
    I don't care if they want a ounce, tell em bounce
    Number six: that god damn credit, dead it
    You think a crackhead payin you back, shit forget it
    Seven: this rule is so underrated
    Keep your family and business completely seperated
    Money and blood don't mix like two dicks and no bitch
    Find yourself in serious shit
    Number eight: never keep no weight on you
    Them cats that squeeze your guns can hold jobs too
    Number nine shoulda been number one to me
    If you ain't gettin bags stay the fuck from police (uh-huh)
    If niggaz think you snitchin ain't tryin listen
    They be sittin in your kitchen, waitin to start hittin
    Number ten: 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, twenty-four years, on the wake up
    Slug hit your temple, watch your frame shake up
    Caretaker did your makeup, when you pass
    Your girl fucked my man Jake up, heard in three weeks
    she sniffed a whole half of cake up
    Heard she suck a good dick, and can hook a steak up
    Gotta go gotta go, more pasta bake up, word up, uhh

    Crack king, Frank Blizzard
    Uhh

    [Chuck D] "One two three four five six seven eight nine"
    "Ten"

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