Scarface ft. Jay-Z & Beanie Siegel Guess Who's Back Lyrics

[Jay-Z talking]
Talk to me man...
This ya boy Young Hova, yo turn the muh'f___in noise up
We'll get right into the proceedings this evening
Headphones are distortin, bring it down a lil' bit
Okay - now we workin wit it
The boy Face on the bassline, Face - Mob!
Welcome to New York City... it's ya boy Young Hov' chea
Kanye West on the track (whoo!) Chi-Town, what's goin on now?
Can I talk to y'all for a minute? Lemme talk to y'all for a minute
Just gimme a minute of ya time baby - I don't want much (whoo!)
Lemme talk to these muh'f___as, uhh

[Jay-Z]
Guess who's bizack?
You still smellin crack in my clothes
Don't make me have to relapse on these hoes
Take it back out to taxin them roads
When I was huggin it, n____z couldn't do nuttin wit it
Straight from the oven wit it - came from the dirt
I emerged from it all without a stain on my shirt
You can blame my old earth, for the s___ she instilled in me
Still with me, pain plus work
s___ she made me milk this game for all it's worth
That's right, these n____z can't f___ with me
I'm callin guts everytime, drag my nuts everytime
Homey, we make a great combination don't we?
Me and the Face Mob, everytime we face-off
Face it y'all, y'all n____z playin basic ball
I'm on the block like I'm eight feet tall
Homey, I'm in the drop with the AC on
That's why the, streets embrace me dawg, I'm so cool!

[Hook]
Guess who's bizack?
Back on the block with the old Face Mob
Mack Mittens and Hov'
Don't make me relapse
Back to the block with the fo'
Cuz this street s___ is all I know

[Scarface]
From the womb to the tomb - a hot pot, a jar and a spoon
Tryna make me forty thousand and move
Motels, star-studded, rock stars and goons
Plain clothes wanna run in my room (whooooo...)
But n____ guess who's bizack? It's ya boy Face Mob
Started with an eightball, gotta get this cake dawg
Give n____z a break, nah, you know how the game go
f___ you think I slang fo', to go against the grain (no)
I'm out here to grind mo', wrapped up in the paper chase
I wanna f___ a fine hoe and candy paint the 88
Don't got no wholesale, cuz that ain't how I wanna run it
Here take these five stones and bring a n____ back a hundred
Gotta see my feet dude, you do s___ a fiend do
The fire get too hot in the kitchen, I hit the streets fool
Money is an issue - and that's on the fa' shizzle my nizzle
Ya block warm, then I come by with the fizzle
And make fa' sho' I get to work mines, for part of the time
We go to war and you ain't makin a dime (ha ha!)
Cuz I got, s___ to lose - a n____ out here payin his dues
My baby walkin gotta get him some shoes
It's a new game doin, lemme give ya the rules
Get outta line and I'ma give ya the blues
It's a new game doin, lemme give ya the rules
Get outta line and I'ma give ya the blues, whoa!

[Beanie Sigel]
Guess who's bizack?
The boy B. Mizack - a.k.a. Mr. Crack-A-Brick
Turn a whole one from a half a brick, look I mastered this
You can smell it once the plastic rips
A hot plate'll make ya swell up if ya gasket clicked
You can make ya chips swell up, ya don't hafta pitch
Play them corners like a safety, watch the traffic switch
Young'n never pump fake, and you'll get past the blitz
And keep ya whole hood on flip - like on box-spring
p___y mattress s___, low old box of things
Strictly glassy s___ - I hug the block like a quarter water
s___ I used to hug a corner like a old deuce and a quarter
Till like deuce in the mornin, with the old heads
Slangin loose quarters, this Philly cat back at it (had it)
Still f___in with them crack addicts
Still bustin with that black-matic

[Hook]

*whistling till fade*