Lloyd Banks
It Aint A Secret (Fat Joe/D Block Diss)
[Chorus]
Lately, I've been hearing a lot of things that I don't agree with
And it ain't a secret
Everybody know you puss, n***a
You ain't a gangsta' you a wuss
What makes ya feel comfortable enough to call my name out like ya know me?
N***a, I ain't cha homie
I got a 4 pound on me
And you can have it

[Verse 1]
This here make ya piss in ya sweats
You know me, Mitchell and Ness, Smith and Wess, pistol and vest
I take ya life with a sound, I got the whistle of death
Ya boy flow put the Crystal in Meth
Take the listeners breath
You won't believe what they do for cock
I hit the telly thrash, and slide off before the rooster crock
Pour out some liquor for Big, let off 2 for Pac
Don't mingle around n***as, shoot off the roof a lot
Fuck ratting, every tooth is locked
And you co-operating, helping 'em damn near recruit the block
I'm blowing heavy on the sofa with the Desi'
Just in case a n***a soft enough to slip through the crack
I'd rather throw some at you then get my shit blew back
This is hardcore pitbull rap right out the track
The hood a bring the bitch out for ya
Man, I get the Glock
My money flip like fish out water, yeah!
[Chorus]
Lately, I've been hearing a lot of things that I don't agree with
And it ain't a secret
Everybody know you puss, n***a
You ain't a gangsta' you a wuss
What makes ya feel comfortable enough to call my name out like ya know me?
N***a, I ain't cha homie
I got a 4 pound on me
And you can have it

[Verse 2]
I'm staring to feel like I got it all sewn up
I helped raise a few of these n***as, now they think they all grown up
See these DVD G's is pissed off behind the scenes
Spoon fed n***as, clit soft as Lima beans
To be real, I don't know why I'm even trippin'
'Cause we run this shit, like diarrhea drippin'
The breads long, the pipe big
So I'm comfortable enough to got to court in my PJ's like Mike did
I move around with the sket, the long Maglees
So chill, 'cause you can't block those with Shawn Bradley
I'ma still be here when D-Block flops
I got more cash than them in my Reebok box
I brighten up the picture, I shine bright
Standing in my way is the only way to be in the lime light
I'm lazy when I hit and run
Which means you gon' get to cum, even if you don't get to come
[Chorus]
Lately, I've been hearing a lot of things that I don't agree with
And it ain't a secret
Everybody know you puss, n***a
You ain't a gangsta' you a wuss
What makes ya feel comfortable enough to call my name out like ya know me?
N***a, I ain't cha homie
I got a 4 pound on me
And you can have it

[Verse 3]
N***as stiff when I pass
'Cause I'm on a spaceship on wheels
First to death, little dude couldn't slip on pills
And you a bitch, all you gotta do is slip on heels
Cheating on me, 'cause the house on the cliff costs mills
I get the brush on ya, give the clique boys chills
Man, there won't be no more songs steak sauce spills, I get the bills
Young black entrepre-n***a, strapped with a vest armed with a trigger
My buddy got a twin tag-along (Uh huh)
The bitch is a quarter
And who am I to split 'em up, blood's thicker than water
So I capture all the episodes on the camcorder
She lick it of her stomach, right after I blam on her
I turn the corner with the Mack Daddy lip
Young Supa fly, black Larry Flint in the bed
I thought about clappin' Joe, but why hit him wit the iron?
He one Big Mac away from dyin'
[Chorus]
Lately, I've been hearing a lot of things that I don't agree with
And it ain't a secret
Everybody know you puss, n***a
You ain't a gangsta' you a wuss
What makes ya feel comfortable enough to call my name out like ya know me?
N***a, I ain't cha homie
I got a 4 pound on me
And you can have it

[Outro]
I got it on me n***a
Man fuck you n***as, fuck around and buck you n***as
Rap would be over
Man fuck you n***as, fuck around and cut you n***as
My career would be over
Man fuck you n***as, fuck around and buck you n***as
No more shows
Man fuck you n***as, fuck around and touch you n***as
And you'll tell