Tony Yayo - Tattle Teller lyrics

I ain't your friend, you a tattle teller

You rat, you snitch, you jealous nigga

You coward nigga, you teller nigga

Tuck your tail, pluck your whiskers you tattle teller

There's rats in the street, and rats in the jail

In the feds, rats wear wires in they cell

Shit Steven Seagal, I used to love his karate

But even he snitched, he told on Peter Gotti

Pillowtalk wit'cha girl about that German Ruger

got her in a small room with the prosecutor

Watch ya shooter, them feds givin years for them guns

And there's nowhere to hide, when the marshals come

D.A. don't play, giving life off of hearsay

And right hand on the stand for conspiracy

Kingpin charges, and that RICO law

got agents in your spot for them bricks of raw

And people tellin on you that you never saw

Like your next door neighbor that live on your floor

The game over, man everybody wanna snatch

Fat Cat and Alpo nigga started this shit

Be careful what you ask for, Joe got bagged

He got knocked by the feds for some things in his past

Now he rattin on his co-D's, snitchin on his homies

to government officials, and U.S. attorneys

He told about his lifestyle and old war stories

The brawl in B-more in the stall with them shorties

Out of town trips, cocaine connects

He told about the ratchets, fo'-fifths and tecs

He snitched about the diesel, stashed in the ceiling

He bragged about them kids that caught bodies in his building

He told on himself and told on his right hand

He talked about taxes and credit card scams

Joe took the stand, he sold his soul

But little did he know he dug a deeper hole

He lied on his friends and the judge flipped on him

Now he in Fort Dix with a man's dick on him

Death before dishonor, what happened to that?

Them wolves in lamb's clothing is the ones that's rat

Nicky Barnes and Alpo, Cat and Freeze

I heard Ta-Ta tellin just to get that cheese

Pipe on death row, they told on Pete

They the reason that pistol ain't on the street

Chris Portello, yeah he used to fuck with Madonna

The South Beach King is, federal informer

Homey watch the corner, slingin that crack

That kid C.K. told on O.G. Mack

Sammy the Bull man, he the biggest of them all

He broke the code, he made the whole mob fall

Italian Joe Camby, he messed up the game

He tellin on his people like Saddam Hussein

So when you standin on that corner, chillin wit'cha fellas

Kid watch your back for them damn tattle tellers

And the Sammy the Bull award goes to, Fat Joe