Tuff Guy

(Half-a-Mill) We got alot of guys out there tryin' to disrespect the

family

(Ali Vegas) what they gon' do with us? nothin'...

(Half-a-Mill) do you know what we do to guys that disrespect the family?

(Ali Vegas) We rub 'em out...kill 'em.

(Half-a-Mill) We cut their fuckin' throats....

(Ali Vegas) I feel you...so lets just do it...who the problem now?

Verse 1: (Half-a-Mill)

Six Million ways to die, which way you want?

spray at players, have 'em runnin' with one gator on

gunmen come in and kick the doors to your Hummer in

mafia style, nothin' but sin

you poppin' Cristal

I pop Four-Fifths, pow!!

push your cap back

send your head back to the hood in your knapsack

mobster traits, Billy the Kid robbed banks

me? I put the scar on Tony Montana's face.

Verse 2: (Ali Vegas)

Aiyo, Half-a-Mill

they got Cat and Will trapped in jail

they found mad concealed crack and steel inside the Black Deville

somebody had to squeal

so here the shotty and the hitlist

do what you wanna with the informer just make sure you body the witness

they call him the Don of luck

we ride around in a army truck armored up

it won't take much to get in his crib, all we gotta do is put the X on

his duck.

Verse 3: (Half-a-Mill)

Fuck it dun, bomb him up

I already done marked him up

barked him up, bodies is ready for the garbage truck

Son, their heart is stuck

they followin' the same path that left their Fathers fucked

brain blast, bulletproof Five, I spray through the glass, it's hard to

duck

we mobsters, what

white wine and Lobster shells crushed.

Verse 4: (Ali Vegas)

The informers name was Rudy the vet

him and his young team of gunslingers palm Uzi's and Tecks

we could bloody up his Coogi's and sweats

and mail his family a head attached to a Koofi and specs

Yo Half, lets start a crack war

run in the crib, put the gun to his wig and body him as he exit the

trapdoor.

Verse 5: (Half-a-Mil)

Son, what the fuck you think I got the MAC for?

packin' guns that only blow backs off

you know the crack law

who ever broke it their necks are supposed to get axed off

smoke the culprit

Ali Vegas, close associate

polly with players who hold bricks

I'll probably shoot the whole click

building lobbies filled with bodies and shit.

Chorus (Ali Vegas) -

No matter how much you keep it real

you gotta sleep with steel

'cause if your foes don't kill Lord knows your peoples will

think you a tough guy 'cause you puff lye?

everyday around my way bullets bust by.

(Repeat)

Verse 6: (Ali Vegas)

The young Don 'll drench you

sneak up on you calm and gentle

inside a Lincoln Continental

thing I'm into is beyond your mental

Ali Vegas will hunt for you

send a violent ho to every talent show to make you uncomfortable

get approached by Multiples

half of my peers' scarred catchin' a beer charge for a open brew

snipers scopin' you from out of stairwells

when it comes to my Fam there ain't no fair ones it's only farewells.

Verse 7: (Half-a-Mill)

Uzi in my hand

two-piece suit with Coogi pants

fuck a hooptie, two seater with my Mira

I'm rollin' weed up

niggas holdin' dough, slowin' me up

I'm'a see him when he go and re-up

he's a wild out cat who supposed to be nuts

and thats what I bust, especially over these bucks

He's in a Cherokee with Melanie

he don't know she tellin' me every place he ever be and stay though

sniffin' Yayo

eyes red like two Tomatoes

hidin' from the FEDS

plus he lied on Lopez

old school cat, used to stick guys on Mopeds

coke head who used to rock Pro Keds

thinkin' he Gotti, he's about to be a body with no head, cold led

this Man's brains are 'bout to be like Champaigne, mo' wet

no vest, poiliticin' next to a Gold Lex

cock the oowop

make his squad bounce like Doowop

take it to the heart with a few shots

blazed their cars, turned 'em into two drops when I blew off the tops

I'm rollin' out but when will this holdin' out shit stop?

it seems like it never ends 'till a nigga gets popped

but yo, we still holdin'

nothin' can stop the dollar bill foldings

raw deals will cause your grill to blow in

concealin' dough Men usually get thrown in Oceans

foldin', Toast to their chin and they roll to the cement.

Chorus 2X

(Half-a-Mill) Ask around in the old neighborhoods....they know about

Half-a-Mill...they know about Ali Vegas...fuck with the Bulls you get

the horns...