Music : Dees, Giles, Green, James ...
Yeah, Dipset, uh
C'mon, **** with your boy
It's Santana, Heatmakerz, where we at?
Let me see you through this
Killa, Jones, Freekey
Yeah man, I'm back at it, come on
Today's a new day, got the boo-lay up in the suitcase
Go uptown to Harlem, tell 'em that I sent ya
Tell 'em it's August, I'm gone til' November (yeah)
I need a couple birds, get a broad, have 'em sent up (of course)
Call my bird, get my broad have her sent up (please)
Call my niggas, call my squad, have 'em sent up (please, yeah)
I see a town I'm liking
See some niggas getting money in a town: I like it (yeahhh)
I run up on them with the pound and light it
Like, "it's my block now, alright, kid?" (whoa)
He understood me quite clear
Then that thing banged out
And rang out the side of his right ear (woo!)
And I got back to my business, back to my b*****s
Back to the kitchen, that Pyrex vision
Pot, I let that white stuff sit in
Get hard, get rock, get to the block and pitching (what)
Yeah I'm sorry but this is how I'm living
And this is how I'm getting, **** how I get it
I stood alone watching the wall, in the zone, hand on my handles
Listening to ****ers music, ay!
I stood at home hand on a chrome, with a zone, flipping the channels
Watching how the mother****ers do it, ay! (say it with me)
I stood alone, getting dome, from a thick chick in sandals
Watching Shaft, clocking math
Now I see death around the corner
Gotta stay high, will I survive?
In the city where the skinny niggas die
Nope, it's the city where the skinny niggas ride
.45 semi on the side, twisting when they drive, yeah
Lick a shot for Big Pop and 'Pac, yeah
One more for Shyne locked inside, yeah
Two more for Cam, for taking over the Roc
Yeah, yeah, it's my year
So, okay, okay, okay, y'all can't **** with me, no way
Jose or Hector Camacho
TEC blows and watch yo' chest close and tacos
Mother****er I'm the best, I told y'all before
I showed y'all before, ay!
I stood alone watching the wall, in the zone, hand on my handles
Listening to ****ers music, ay!
I stood at home hand on a chrome, with a zone, flipping the channels
Watching how the mother****ers do it, ay! (say it with me)
I stood alone, getting dome, from a thick chick in sandals
Watching Shaft, clocking math
Killa, Killa (Killa...)
I'm on the west side of Chicago, looking for a bust-down
Don't make me put my two arms up, touchdown! (what up, ma?)
You stay in touch now, but when I touch down
I'm like Buckshot, shorty, Duck Down
Yeah I must clown, I'm from Harlem, uptown
Where we flash money, take your b***h and ask you, 'what now?'
Birds flip a dozen, chicks, it's ****s they suckin'
Swallow my kids, go and kiss they cousin
Yes, they kissing cousins, Toya's kissing muffin
Worse than that, they go home and kiss they husband (shit's foul)
The shit's disgusting
Keep the chickens clucking, keep the pigeons bugging
This on my wrist is nothing
Yeah, it's just yellow hearts and pink diamonds
Where I get the money for this? Don't think rhyming
You ****ing with Pablo, Bravo
Mario Villabona, hoe, Ta-to
I stood alone watching the wall, in the zone, hand on my handles
Listening to ****ers music, ay!
I stood at home hand on a chrome, with a zone, flipping the channels
Watching how the mother****ers do it, ay! (say it with me)
I stood alone watching the wall, in the zone, hand on my handles
Listening to ****ers music, ay!
I stood alone, getting dome, from a thick chick in sandals
Watching Shaft, clocking math