maybe they were but he probably wasn't doing solo shows at that time. So he probably wasn't making much off the shows neither. Whatever he was making unless u at like mid 6 figures theres no reason for a nikka like him to stop at that point. He was probably clearing well under 100k off music a year at that point. For a street nikka that isn't enough to stop hustling especially if u dont know how long u gonna be rapping for. Publishing was all fukked up too.
Was Styles P feared in NY or just a wannabe tough guy?
- Thread starter Silver Surfer
- Start date
maybe they were but he probably wasn't doing solo shows at that time. So he probably wasn't making much off the shows neither. Whatever he was making unless u at like mid 6 figures theres no reason for a nikka like him to stop at that point. He was probably clearing well under 100k off music a year at that point. For a street nikka that isn't enough to stop hustling especially if u dont know how long u gonna be rapping for. Publishing was all fukked up too.
All the other hard nikkas they come from Yonkers
it wasn't random dudes, I lived on the block. Always hung with ruff Ryder's street team when they were out. The only ones that never really came around was X and jada, but you could easily catch p and sheek posted up smoking,chillin with the hood nikkas around the area. Especially off 16th.so nikkas just walk around showing randoms dudes they guns?
It wasn't unheard of for nikkas to flash the burner to prove a point.
I don't go around just posting shyt on here, just speaking off being there first hand you feel me
Lol X had that about him. Not the first time i hear it. Part of it is probably due to his addiction. Even the Ruff Ryders had issues finding him at times. He used to skate out & be out often.
Forgot who it was but theres another one im thinking of in the rap game that kinda did that too alot. Forgot who. I know some of the Wu nikkas were like that too tho.
You know...He doesn't pop children but He doesn't have problems kidnapping a bytch
The War Report
NewNewYork
My homie met styles...
mad cool and humble
mad cool and humble
This is my favorite Styles P song EVER
This description and harsh realities of jail life when you locked up in a dangerous prison
[Verse 1]
Spittin the real for all my nikkas sitting in prison
Whether twenty-five to life or skid biddin
Should've restrained, some of us change and some of us don't
Most of them kill but some of them won't
nikkas is big, nikkas is small, but all of them brawl
It could happen during rec or while you makin a call
One T.V. for the Ricans, other one for the Blacks...only cowards get sonned for the Jack
Only cowards get talked to greasy and be mumblin back
But me? I grab the banger, I don't care about size
Hope the whole block watch when I tear out your eyes
C/O pullin the pin, turtles is comin
But before I hit the box dog, I'm murderin somethin
Thick is thick, frail is frail
Make sure that my name ring bells wheneva I'm in jail
It's the belly of the beast, bottom of hell
[Verse 2]
5'8...200
And too blunted for the bullshyt
Comin through the yard on some bullshyt
Call my girl collect, she ain't accept
Left my man wit ten birds, he ain't connect
Everybody actin funny, like I ain't comin home
My laywer is Jewish, my money is long
You know that it's on
Two cells down, got cut in the back
fukked in the shower for hustling crack
This shyt is for real, you grippin your steel
Weighin the odds, you King or you Crip
Blood or you God, Muslim or neutral
A buck-fifty's real, but a body is crucial
Cause jail turn boys to men, some men to bytches
This the place where they end your wishes
Ain't no more p*ssy or money
Just some crackers and the bunch of coward nikkas that'll look at you funny
I should've wild out in booking and took a few dummies
[Verse 3]
Nobody wanna die in jail
Wit they blood and they guts all around they cell
Only two ways to live, ride or tell
I ain't never say a word...Mafia rules
You know the P go to commissary, rockin his jewels
New Nikes and a walkman, lookin for mules
To bring weed in they ass, COs got me stressed
and I'm thinking bout those days I used to breeze on the Ave
Hoppin in the Benz, now I'm in the State
and I'm locking in at 10, wakin up at 8
20 sets of 10s then I take it to the weights
nikkas getting big, if I can't appeal, I'ma bring it to the pigs
Grab the ice pick and bring it to they ribs
Leave em wit a scar, from they belly to the jibs
I know I'm gonna die but I still gonna ride and blame God that I live
This description and harsh realities of jail life when you locked up in a dangerous prison
[Verse 1]
Spittin the real for all my nikkas sitting in prison
Whether twenty-five to life or skid biddin
Should've restrained, some of us change and some of us don't
Most of them kill but some of them won't
nikkas is big, nikkas is small, but all of them brawl
It could happen during rec or while you makin a call
One T.V. for the Ricans, other one for the Blacks...only cowards get sonned for the Jack
Only cowards get talked to greasy and be mumblin back
But me? I grab the banger, I don't care about size
Hope the whole block watch when I tear out your eyes
C/O pullin the pin, turtles is comin
But before I hit the box dog, I'm murderin somethin
Thick is thick, frail is frail
Make sure that my name ring bells wheneva I'm in jail
It's the belly of the beast, bottom of hell
[Verse 2]
5'8...200
And too blunted for the bullshyt
Comin through the yard on some bullshyt
Call my girl collect, she ain't accept
Left my man wit ten birds, he ain't connect
Everybody actin funny, like I ain't comin home
My laywer is Jewish, my money is long
You know that it's on
Two cells down, got cut in the back
fukked in the shower for hustling crack
This shyt is for real, you grippin your steel
Weighin the odds, you King or you Crip
Blood or you God, Muslim or neutral
A buck-fifty's real, but a body is crucial
Cause jail turn boys to men, some men to bytches
This the place where they end your wishes
Ain't no more p*ssy or money
Just some crackers and the bunch of coward nikkas that'll look at you funny
I should've wild out in booking and took a few dummies
[Verse 3]
Nobody wanna die in jail
Wit they blood and they guts all around they cell
Only two ways to live, ride or tell
I ain't never say a word...Mafia rules
You know the P go to commissary, rockin his jewels
New Nikes and a walkman, lookin for mules
To bring weed in they ass, COs got me stressed
and I'm thinking bout those days I used to breeze on the Ave
Hoppin in the Benz, now I'm in the State
and I'm locking in at 10, wakin up at 8
20 sets of 10s then I take it to the weights
nikkas getting big, if I can't appeal, I'ma bring it to the pigs
Grab the ice pick and bring it to they ribs
Leave em wit a scar, from they belly to the jibs
I know I'm gonna die but I still gonna ride and blame God that I live
Amphibious
Land, water, wherever.
Your cacness is so obvious you can't even hide it chump.
spliz
SplizThaDon
No they aren’t. ESPECIALLY not Styles P. And I know this for a fact.the LOX are, for all intents and purposes, studio gangsters, but for some reason that's okay with me,. i guess if you do it good enough then it doesn't even matter if it's all blatant fantasy.
