Styles P
Who Did You Expect
[Verse 1: Jadakiss]
Yo, even if I just cooked up, if money's comin', give you it moist
And don't be scared to die, I ain't give you a choice
N***as'll try to kill you, 'cause of what they think you got
And the ambulance'll take longer if they think you shot
N***a, fuck the bullshit, Kiss keep a full clip
In front of the store, rockin' Gores and a Woolrich
Blowin' sticky green grass, that'll sit me on my ass
Wit' a mean sports coupe, with 160 on the dash
So what, I got a Rollie, and it got a lotta ice?
I pull my gun out, and bet I get another one tonight
Your brother died, bet your mother lose another son tonight
I'm clever, only time we party, when we beat a body
Or when they free Gotti, so that means never
To my n***as in they cell, wit' a hour of rec
Or K.L., for beatin a coward to death
I feel y'all, so feel me, even if y'all guilty
Time y'all n***as come home, the god'll be filthy
Even though by then these faggots probably be done killed me
I tell my son, "Keep it real, give y'all n***as each a bill"
So what's the deal, n***as? Y'all know the deal, uh

[Chorus: Jadakiss]
Who did you expect? What – L.O.X. to the death
And we go hard, dawg – every time, nothing less
Catch us at the dice game, blowin' a thou'
Never goin' to trial, coppin' out, holdin' it down
We could get it on, any way, shape, or form
Any day of the week – Styles, Jada, and Sheek
It ain't hot 'less we are, n***as, we are the heat
'We Are The Streets and we makin' it hard to eat
[Verse 2: Sheek Louch]
Ayo, you say fuck me? I feel the same way about you, bitch
N***as made you rich and now you act like this?
Who them thuggest n***as on your team? Guns to the triple beam
Without rap my nickles gleam, drug money make it seem
Fast, n***as puff hydro and hash like it's nicotine
Fake n***as, rid a' theem, who flip from wealth
You want space? I'll give you a whole hospital room to yourself
I got doctors who make housecalls when n***as get hit
That way the press and the cops don't run shit – feel me, kid?
When it comes to thuggin' it, n***a, that's my sport
I even pick up your shells, so you won't get caught
Dum-dums, n***as camouflaged, playin' as bums
Pop up, shoot through the liquor bottle, straighten your lungs
Take the bum clothes off, buy a paper at the newsstand
Walk by me, scream out, "Somebody help this man!"
Not even life insurance helpin' your fam, I'm takin' that
I'm from Yonkers, motherfucker, where the murderers at
Murderous gat, we bloodline, no cur in our pack
You owe us dough, have it as that – I leave it at that, faggots

[Chorus: Jadakiss]
Who did you expect? What – L.O.X. to the death
And we go hard, dawg – every time, nothing less
Catch us at the dice game, blowin' a thou'
Never goin' to trial, coppin' out, holdin' it down
We could get it on, any way, shape, or form
Any day of the week – Styles, Jada, and Sheek
It ain't hot 'less we are, n***as, we are the heat
'We Are The Streets and we makin' it hard to eat
[Verse 3: Styles P]
Spittin' to live, two bullets hittin' your ribs
You christen your kids, I let my son listen to BIG
I won't stop 'til a thousand n***as fit in my crib
I won't be happy 'til my last n***a finish his bid
All on the top, yeah, you could ball in a drop
I'd rather–ball in a yacht, no callin' the cops
In the middle of the ocean, lettin' my nine pop
Givin' a dime cock, blowin' away
Baggin' the yae, tryin' to get a wagon a day
Pick up a quarter, and still throw my chain in the water
Watch on the floor, bitch, I'll put my Glock in your jaw
N***as think they own a label, just signed a deal
You poppin' that bullshit, they might find you killed
Slumped on the highway, behind the wheel
Or you could do it my way – relax and chill
You could work for SP, sell cracks and pills
Bitch, I smack your mouth while you smoke in the field
Run up in your house, then alarmin' your grill
Drama for real, you never seen honor and will
'Til you wake up in the mornin and your mama is killed

[Chorus: Jadakiss]
Who did you expect? What – L.O.X. to the death
And we go hard, dawg – every time, nothing less
Catch us at the dice game, blowin' a thou'
Never goin' to trial, coppin' out, holdin' it down
We could get it on, any way, shape, or form
Any day of the week – Styles, Jada, and Sheek
It ain't hot 'less we are, n***as, we are the heat
'We Are The Streets and we makin' it hard to eat