Brick - Esham, TNT

Think quick, hit me with a brick, lickety split

The quicker he flip, the quicker the whip

The turbochip, twenty-four inch dipped

glock on the hip in the kitchen with the magican watchin him mix

I don’t give a fuck, somebody pull up in a cement truck

and get some bricks on my lawn, like you diggin it up its been a droute, no doubt, trying to find a new paper route

Brick-layin like a mason out there, what you about?

Grinder, baller, hustler, servin customers

Money get a hoe-hitter, have him lovin us From elbows got bank rolls

And all the freshest clothes and all the coke-head stank hoes

I was born in a dope spot, holdin rocks

Foldin knots, baking soda, bubble hot water and pots

Learnin watch for the cops, twenty off every hundred, five-hundred is tops

But my story’s untold, cause it’s so out cold

Did all of this shit when I was very young

Learned to pack a gun in my early days

And the only thing on my mind was getting paid

Twenty-four/seven sittin in a spot with a mac eleven

Sniff, blow your brains out real quickly

The old people say you can go to jail for that

I got a scale for that, plus a sale for that

Hit me with a brick of that flakey shit

That jump back quick from one-two-five to one-five-six

I’m helluva on the mix

The fiends need a fix

Don’t talk no shit

Just hit me with a brick

Thats if your holding

big figure folding

i’m rollin like Nolan

Boomin’like Newman in the fast lane zoomin

I need a new plug cuss mine just blew, man.