Ten Crack Commandments

(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 f**ked up, get your a*s 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 a*s up, properly ga*sed up Hoodie to mask up, shit, for that fast buck she be layin in the bushes to light that a*s 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 d**ks 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 f**k 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 pa*s Your girl f**ked my man Jake up, heard in three weeks she sniffed a whole half of cake up Heard she s*ck a good d**k, and can hook a steak up Gotta go gotta go, more pots to bake up, word up, uhh Crack king, Frank Whi'zza Uhh (Chuck D) "One two three four five six seven eight nine" "Ten" If you find some error in Ten Crack