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(Featuring Cam'ron/Chinky Brown Eyes) |
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Killa, Killa, Dipset man |
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Aye yo you know I've been all over the mother****ing world man |
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But ain't no place like Harlem man |
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Me break it down man |
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We tie dynamite to the rhino type, whine you might find yo sight |
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Sell the information for a dime a white, that c |
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I'm behind the diner, selling marijuana to a minor minor |
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Elder fella, lookin' for that shine, I'll shine ya |
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My mind designa, you a dime, I dine ya |
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Madonna momma, body bottle, your fine, I'm finer |
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Time to climb her, climb behind vagina |
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Then I hime and grind her, 'til her mom remind her |
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Diamonds blind her, visions gone, kiss her palm |
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Turn her on, lift her arm, notice that her wrists is wrong |
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Gotta get it right ma, we gon' get along |
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Said how don't trip, but yo the trick is wrong |
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First visit warn, day job tick a tron |
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Night time, missed the mom, bootleg Chris and Don |
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Brother Chris and Don, and they sister calm |
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They sell yay, you'll say yay, this s***'s the bomb |
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I'm a hit my man, tell 'em you my bigga pawn |
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The rest, so yes, you'll be blessed to hit the intercom |
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You know kisses mom, she gave him wisdom charm |
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And they father come from a long lista dons |
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And I get it cheaper, I cop bricks like sneakers |
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And if the cops come, I just hit amnesia |
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But I give you an earful, it's tearful |
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Told my mother I hustle, and she said be careful |
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Why I feel like I'm losin' weight? |
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Why I ain't got no money if I'm movin' weight? |
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My life's based upon, what I'mma do this year |
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Cop a boat, Hop a layer, now the army suits cute with my chocolate Airs |
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You ain't gotta stare, go cop a pair |
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Still the sweet in me, nothing they can do to me |
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I made sure my mother and girl is smothered in pearls |
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When a nigga under the world |
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Everybody like Cam got the recipe now |
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Not them three girls I got to be Destiny's Child |
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Specially equities, wreckin' we smile |
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In the fear tech the tech and use the tech that we wile |
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The tech with the septa, Receptive affiles |
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Hectic, heckle a koch, helicopters on the set of my sales |
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Nah, I ain't gon' be imbedded in jail |
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Talking to a cell mate in a bed in a jail, dog |
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I broke bread with the wheel, fled from some seals |
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And the house, I was the head of the hills, s*** |
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You get a dumb ho, and get dumb happy |
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Go to the gun show, get gun happy |
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Stuck, killed, mugged, milt |
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Tone flint sticks, bo, Chub's milk |
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Poochi, baba, butta got the hardest shells |
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We the Midwest gun cartel, nigga |
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Ya, well just clap up ya brains, snatch up ya chains |
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See dog? Rap is my aim |
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But I'm a hustla, in my heart, trapped is the game |
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A test of my frame, tapped to my brain, affects that remains |
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It wasn't rap, it was crack that got the racks on the Range |
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Look dog, don't be askin' for dames, see |
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Playboy, I don't own that man |
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In any way homeboy, you a grown ass man, s*** |
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And when I rap, it ain't no punchlines |
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I be on the highway dirty, crunch time |
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N o timeouts homeboy, just one time |
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If they find that stash box, just one time |
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S***, they'll put the dogs in the trunk |
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Side of the road, holding you up, cold as a f*** |
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They want that button, lunge it and push it |
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Soon as they lunge it and push it, I'll run in the bushes |
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That's how I play mine, jump over the grapevine |
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Take my chances, one on one with the K9 |
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Stealin' a clip, for anyone squealin' they lips |
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F*** y'all if y'all ain't feeling the dips |
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Why I feel like I'm losin' weight? |
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Why I ain't got no money if I'm movin' weight? |
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My life's based upon, what I'mma do this year |
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Cop a boat, Hop a layer, now the army suits cute with my chocolate Airs |
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You ain't gotta stare, go cop a pair |
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Still the sweet in me, nothing they can do to me |
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I made sure my mother and girl is smothered in pearls |
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When a nigga under the world |
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Killa |
