State Your Name

(D-Elite.. state your naaaame, gangsta!)

[Tre' Little]

C'mon, Tre' Little don status, hold my dick

Say ya label push the date back, now that's what you get

I came in this game like it's more than rap (c'mon)

Dog, I'm tryin to destroy the salary cap

The Source is happy we came six covers, it's covered

That'll last about May, June, well into the summer

Why talk about different colors for various Coupes

Shit green, fart blue, ooh clever you

Help me ma, I'll take a shot at any one of y'alls

Got mami droppin drawers before the first phone call

We some gangstas, study the "Ten Crack Commandments"

Stay +Big+, and worship "Hail Mary", that's how we live

Lay low good guys, catch you with a hook I

know why you lie, ya crew ain't quite like mine

Spit it like ooh my, these labels like ooh my

(State your naaaame, gangsta!)

[Cha Cha]

It's the C-H-A, say it with me niggaz

Cha Cha Cha, y'all Cha Cha Cha

You cannot lie or deny these niggaz ain't rah-rah

Put the barrel on the bridge of your nose and turn you cock-eyed

Steppin to us not wise, told you how to get live

Go in depth best with the finger next to the index

Such threats expect five guys, five tecs

Make they gats all sing in unison like a quintet

They don't say whodi, son, dunn, or young'n

You can owe 'em and say hi and they greet you like "Hey guy"

Whattup though Nickel, Jah, Tre', X, and Cut Throat

My brethrens all veterans all throwin up sevens

When we rock hits to the sky throw 'em up to the heavens

Us and crews clash no more, we built the Rapport

Me and Royce here to restore what we were buildin before

So add a million sold or more is when I get at you whores, uh-huh

(State your naaaame, gangsta!)

[Cut Throat]

Cut Throat, the livin threat street shit the blueprint

The guideline rappers sideline until they buy mine

Them little guns y'all blow, I stay on the low (uhh)

Rap like this and work the scale like so (uhh)

Take it to the gutter, we could duke or shoot it out

Switchblades pump gauge, whatever you about

Burn you to ya hood, we could bang for the work

For the buildings or the blocks do the thang to the dirt

I'm a FUCK-in fool, crews DUCK and move

Stay in a FUCKED up mood, one FUCKED up dude

When it's hot I, breathe in the heat, don't even sleep

I, be knee-deep in the beats that made me

a certified gangsta specialize in duct tape

Let you know how many fo'-five slugs your gut take

Show your favorite thug how to be a thug, top that nigga

Turn your favorite drug into another drug, cop that nigga

(State your naaaame, gangsta!)

[Jah 5'9"]

Jah da 5'9" speak and shake rhyme great, history's made

The street gangsta city flow race against time

Never sign for cash, my hustle's the shit {*whoosh*}

You feel the breeze push past, you get a grip

Millennium game, earth tone keep it in range

Close to the grave I rock, fake niggaz shouldn't doubt us

Surrounded by crooks, full clips and fine weed

Choice clothes, on my Bossi, and fine hoes

Long nights, bust those in small cris'

Niggaz playin themselves for thinkin we rhyme alike

How would you fight me, I'm like ten families strong

Manipulation by song, relate to it niggaz

Henny on the rocks toast to the real, in God we trust

Calm gladiator, song navigator

Them whole blocks got a story to tell

All of a sudden seasons change, you're welcome

(State your naaaame, gangsta!)

[Billy Nix]

Billy Nix, black man is here, listen close

Spittin, just to niggaz, X address the niggaz

Most niggaz don't see right, see light like it's darkness

No guns in sight, no might for the heartless

We run ya mics, you write like you're retarded

No offense but your flow's slow and dense

I know my niggaz hearin the D, ya smellin this

You spoke that which you wrote while broke yellin rich

Didn't know, you shoulda spoke while broke sayin poor

Then Biggie up, "Kick in the Door," play it some more

This is the evolution of emceein, who dissin us?

Gettin Rah, stick up nigga, hand me ya listeners

Get a job we here, D-Elite, touch it

Matter fact, niggaz is wack, Wall Street fuck it

X government agent remember yo' name, remember yo' game

You niggaz won't be spittin the same, motherfucker

(State your naaaame, gangsta!)

My God!