[Intro]

Okay

Roadside Enterainment

Roadside Enterainment

Oh, oh okay

Curb on Smash (Yeah)

Get to

[Verse]

I'm like you know it's on, Alan B's back

To hitting tracks, I spit bars better on every track

You're new school, I'm old school like Cadillacs

So anything that you spit, I'll counteract

I rip shows, I'm blowing up like in Iraq

Bars for the people in the front and in the back

I spit sixteens for the white and for the black

Just for the Ps, take your ice chain

Resist and I'll squeeze, I'm a beast on the scene

I'm back now, spitting like a 9 with a beam

On point on my own, I can murder your team

I'm blessed with the flow, I can murdеr the scene

Fuck sugar and sweetеners, I want cream

I'm going to the top of the globe with my team

I'm strapped so I'm ready to rinse a few teet'

Act up, get one in your freaky blue jeans

Your clique's fake like fairy tales

I'm pissed off like the guys in jail not receiving mail

'Cause these guys ain't loyal on the streets

Making dubs, your clique ain't blowing on the streets

Real niggas are down and [?] for the beef

You run like a fox when you hear the guns beat

If we're running, we bang [?]

You're running for your life like a pussy in the street

I'll die for the fam, bag a man quick for the fam

Even if he owes twenty-five grand

Or twenty-eight grams, I roll with twenty-eight fam

And I'm far from twenty-eight, fam

If I was broke, could I mash a quick grand?

On your ends, if you say no, we ain't fam

Fuck being around for the sake that I can

It's a new year so I'm knocking off man

My life has changed since last year

I've focused and I'm gonna blow this year

With the family, yeah, we're gonna blow this year

Roadside Entertainment's back in gear

With some new mixtapes, hit tracks and dubplates

Solo mixtapes, sets and PAs

Radio features, no, we don't play

We was on KISS and Radio 1, mate

You'll get cut in the booth like dubplates

You sound shit in the booth, you're so fake

You ain't spitting crack, you're spitting high grade

You'll get spun within the beef, you sound lame

You ain't stepping to the clique, you flow fake

You ain't driving a whip, you take train

Your gun bars ain't gonna sell like Dad Kane

Alan B's old school, learn a G's name

Give me the concept, give me a beat

Give me a 9 and let me move it in a week

Give me a 9 and let me put two in his beak

Pricks get murdered for less on the street

About you're spitting hard, you're a ghost on the street

We can't see you, you hide, you're a neek

When I flow, you catch feelings, you get weak

That's why you spit nervous after me

[?] like Eazy-E

If the food's shit, then you best return the P

Stop spitting about jail, I'm strapped and I'm free

Roadside's like a full strap to the teet'

[Outro]

Ah!

Early, Curb on Smash, Gear Two

Alan Beezy, '06