What We Do
Freeway ft. Jay-Z & Beanie Sigel Lyrics

Man if I get rocked, this shit for my kids nigga It's that real shit...
If I get caught and go to jail, I'm doing it for my kids because this is how I provide for them.

Even though what we do is wrong... We still hustle 'til the sun come up Crack a 40 when the sun go down It's a cold winter
We know selling drugs is wrong but we need to hustle day and night to survive, even in difficult times.

Y'all niggaz better bundle up And I bet it be a hotter summer, grab a onion Yes the ROC gets down, you hot now, listen up Don't you know cops' whole purpose is to lock us down?
You better be ready for anything because even though winter is here now, it's going to be a hot summer too. The police are here to put us in jail; don't forget that.

And throw away the key But without this drug shit your kids ain't got no way to eat, huh?
The cops lock us away for life and forget about us, but without this drug money, we wouldn't be able to feed our children.

We still try to keep Mom...smilin'... 'Cause when the teeth stop showin' and the stomach start growlin' Then the heat start flowin'
We try to keep our moms happy because when we're struggling, we might end up using violence to survive.

If you from the hood I know you feel me ([Jay-Z:] Keep goin'...) If a sneak start leanin' and the heat stop workin' Then my heat start workin' I'm-a rob me a person Catch a nigga sleepin' while he out in the open...and I'm-a get him ([Jay-Z:] Keep flowin'...)
If you're from the hood, you know what I'm talking about. If my gun malfunctions, I'm going to find another victim to rob because I need to survive.

We gotta raise our kids while we livin' Make a million off-a record bail my niggaz outta prison Fuck a Bentley or a Lexus just my boys in the squadder Nigga talk reckless then I hit 'em with the Smif 'n...
We need to raise our children while we're still alive. We'll use our music to make a lot of money and use it to bail out our friends from prison. I don't care about fancy cars as long as my boys are here to support me. If someone talks badly about me, I'll shoot them with my gun.

But I'm never snitchin' I'm a rider If my kids hungry snatch the dishes out ya kitchen I'll be wylin' til they pick me outta line-up...
I'm loyal and won't tell on anyone; I'm a true hustler. If my kids are hungry, I'll break into your house and take your food. I'll never stop hustling until I get caught.

We keep the nines tucked, chopped dimes up, rap about it Wyle out, fuck niggaz up, laugh about it I'm not tryin' to visit the morgue but Freeway move out 'til I sit with the Lord 'Til I...get my shit together, clean up my sins
We always have our guns ready and sell drugs; we even rap about it. We like to have fun and cause trouble, but I don't want to die so I need to clean up my life.

Freeway got it in like 10 in the mornin' And I can get it to ya like 10 while you yawnin' mang... Still deliver the order mang! And I ain't talkin' bout chicken and gravy mang!
I have drugs ready to sell as soon as I wake up at 10 am, and I can deliver them to you before you're even awake. I still have the drugs you want, and I'm not talking about cooking; I'm talking about selling drugs.

I'm talkin' bout bricks 'o ye-yo, halves and quarters 4 and a halves of hash you do the math Swing past us scoop up your daughter She want to roll wit' a thug that rap, you do the math He won't blast 'til my stacks in order mang!
I'm talking about selling large amounts of drugs, and the prices add up quickly. Come see us and bring your daughter; she wants to hang out with a criminal rapper. Don't mess with me until I have enough money saved up from selling drugs.

... Mang! Lemme get 'em Free Hove never slackin' mang, zippin' in the black Range Faster than the red ghost, gettin' ghost wit' Pac-Mang One-time know a got a knack to get that change
Let me handle this, Freeway. Jay-Z is always on the move, driving his black car quickly. He's like a ghost, avoiding the police. He knows how to get money.

Leader of the black gang, are-O-see mang Bang like T-Mac, ski mask air it out Gotta kill witnesses 'cause Free's beard's stickin' out Y'all don't want no witness shit, we squeeze hammers mang
Jay-Z is the leader of his gang and is dangerous like Tracy McGrady. He wears a ski mask and will kill anyone who witnesses his crimes because Freeway's beard is easily recognizable. Don't mess with us or we'll shoot you.

Bullets breeze by you, like Lousiana mang... But I gotta feed Tianna mang... So I move keys you can call me the Piano Man Rain...sleet, hail...snow man Slang dough, E, hydro man...
Bullets will fly past you very quickly, but I need to feed my daughter. I sell drugs, and you can call me the Piano Man because I move a lot of product. Nothing will stop me, not even rain, sleet, hail, or snow. I sell weed, ecstasy, and hydrocodone.

...no, B. Sige in the third lane Gramps still prayin' workin on my nerves man... Like, "Son you gotta get your soul clean... Before they blow them horns like Coltrane..."
This is Beanie Sigel rapping in the third lane. My grandpa annoys me when he lectures me about cleaning my soul. He's afraid I'll die and go to hell, like jazz musician John Coltrane.

But still I cry tears of a hustler Wipe tears from my mother, pull out beers for her brothers... That's above us, make beds for the babies Tuck kids under covers, buy cribs for their mothers
Despite being a hustler and selling drugs, I'm still emotional and cry. I take care of my family, from buying drinks for my uncles to providing beds and cribs for their children.

Shit I'll probably be wylin' with their fathers Tell Ms. Robert, tell Enijah that I'm ridin' for her father That's like my brother, like same mother different father Any problems dog know I got 'em
I'll probably end up hanging out with my nieces and nephews too, acting crazy like their fathers. Tell the kids that I support their father and treat him as my own brother. I'll help anyone who needs it.

And still we grind from the bottom Just to make it to the bottom sold crack in the alleyways Still gave back Marcy a Dollar Day Real gangstas make hood holidays They ain't thank us but we still paid homage mang
We start from the bottom and work hard just to end up at the bottom again. We sell drugs in the alleys, but we still give back to the community on Dollar Day. We're real gangsters who make our own holidays in the hood. Even if people don't thank us, we still show respect.

Soul Food Sunday lookin' like Big Momma's mang Tell the gang I never break my promise mang... mang... unnh!
Our Soul Food Sunday celebrates who we are as a community, just like the movie "Big Momma's House." I'll never break my promises to my gang, no matter what.