Say It to My Face – Song and Lyrics by 8Ball


Discover the poetic beauty in ‘Say It to My Face’ by 8Ball. This lyric breakdown takes you on a journey through the artist’s thoughts, emotions, and the story they aim to tell. From clever metaphors to evocative imagery, we delve into the nuances that make this song a lyrical masterpiece. Whether you’re a fan of 8Ball or a lover of well-crafted words, our detailed analysis will give you a deeper understanding and appreciation of this song.

[Young Buck]
I’m sick and tired of these same ol’ broke bitches
No job, all they wanna do is smoke swishers
Get some money ho, why you wanna watch mine?
Ain’t no tellin what I’m gon’ be drivin next time
Seven figure nigga, we don’t buy the bar no mo’ (nah)
Pull up the paperwork, tell the owner he can go
Walk like a pimp bitch, talk like a soldier
I got New York niggaz candy-paintin up they Rovers
It say 200 but it go a little over
Not the Corvette, the Ferrari Testarosa
And we can bet on any point on the dice
Pick ’em up, shake ’em twice, get ’em girl, look I’m nice
{Dirty South} I’m so clean with my G-Unit kicks on
I might be goin in, when Pimp C get home
If you don’t like me, say it to my face
Just because I caught a case don’t mean you can’t be erased, bitch

[Chorus: Young Buck]
It must be the ice or the money that I make (yeahhhh)
They talk behind my back but they won’t say it to my face ho
Say it to my face (yeah) say it to my face (yeah)
They talk behind my back but they won’t say it to my face (yeah)
It gotta be these cars or the trips that I take (what)
That make ’em wanna hate, won’t you say it in my face bitch
Say it to my face (yeah) say it to my face (yeah)
They talk behind my back but they won’t say it to my face (yeah)

[Bun B] + {Young Buck}
Say nigga you can go anywhere across the U.S. (S)
From North to the South, East, Mid to the West
Walk up in the hardest hood, ask a nigga ’bout me
Bet he’ll tell you Bun B is straight motherfuckin G (G)
A gangsta from his toes to the top of his fitted
Trillest nigga in the flesh (flesh) you can’t f*ck wit it
Got them German handguns, they shoot two-two-threes
Bust through your condo (‘do) and rip open your knees (open your knees)
My nigga please, you don’t wanna save your breath
By myself, I’ma ride ’til no enemy is left
When the middle finger niggaz hit yo’ block, like it’s urgent
Just know the turrets from us cleanin yo’ clock, like detergent
Buck, they don’t think I hear ’em {nigga please} quiet as kept
I bet they die before they reach that first motherfuckin step
I rep them UnderGround Kingz, f*ck boy, Pimp and Bun
If it’s action that you want, my nigga come get you some (c’mon)


We pimp type, MJG, I mean
Them packin some weight and I ain’t talkin ’bout, Creatine
Some niggaz they like to talk shit, in the uniform
Guess what? Them niggaz still phony as a unicorn
And I’ll be damned if I run
You bust the do’, they ran out of guns, man you so dumb
Puttin faith in the beach, snitchin on the trap
I’m about to put a permanent stitch up in your yap

[8 Ball]
Ay, all Ball do is smoke weed and get bad bitches
Y’all mad at me for that, y’all niggaz some bitches
Undercover groupie niggaz with the stop and plead
For the last time, I don’t smoke regular weed
It don’t matter where we at mayne, we fire it up
Security don’t stop the weed man from findin us
Industry dick suckers keep runnin your mouth
And I’ma give you muh’fuckers somethin to talk about, yea