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[Verse 1: Boobonic] |
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First of all I'm a T-H-U-G |
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Boobonic nigga, who the **** you be? |
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If you don't really want this block then move over |
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So you don't get big weight and lose it like Oprah |
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Caught a case down South in V.A. court |
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The game change every year like EA Sport |
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You see now they got platinum, mad you got gold? |
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My corner's like the Beatles nigga, get your rock and roll |
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Niggas mad cause the Feds stay on me cause they in cars |
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Mad cause I oversee the Projects like A&R's |
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Try not to do hits myself, I order that |
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While you cooked Four and a half and got a quarter back |
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You play the tough guy role good, I ought to clap |
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And did alot of rappin' too, I should've bought a track |
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I had to check this comb in your rug, checkin' for soil |
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Got popped while you was under your hood checkin' your oil |
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[Verse 2: Malice] |
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I graduated from eight balls to blow thats cake size |
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Match me grand for grand and lets make these stakes rise |
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Mahavaji rich, in Egypt with eight wives |
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While my fam rocks links and medallions thats plate size |
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You up against The Clipse, believe theres no chance |
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What you feel about hollows piercin' through your throat glands? |
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See, I sweet talk the Devil, take him on a slow dance |
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While your hardcore posse's is extras and road hands |
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Get your Fifty deep, us rollin' in Convoys |
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You ****in' with grown Men and y'all is young boys |
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Love double action, pack anything with loud noise |
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As we kidnap your partners and use 'em as decoys |
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[Hook] |
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If y'all ain't got guns (I don't represent you) |
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If you ain't got coke (I don't represent you) |
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If you ain't got dough (I don't represent you) |
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**** ya clique and that bullshit you been through |
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(repeat) |
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[Verse 3: Mr Mr] |
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I never hold back, I cock back and twist ya |
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I never been shot motha****a, it's Mista |
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I scream who's coke? who's whip is that? |
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I want the main coke source, not just the crack |
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I want the one who cook it up and make you push the pack |
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You don't like that we cut at you nigga? bust back |
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I never been the one to talk and chill shit out |
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I shoot 'till it jam and the clip don't spit out |
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You heard I'm 'bout to run in your house? you better get out |
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Mista take stacks and coke and sort shit out |
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Whoever don't like it wanna come then come |
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And you smart mouth niggas get popped with dum-dums |
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[Verse 4: Pusha T] |
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Who the **** wanna see us? |
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Chrome double barrel heaters |
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Motha****as better bow when they greet us |
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Red green and black strapped on Gucci wife beaters |
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With platinum paint jobs on 3.8 liters |
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Two ways to live, cocaine or showbiz |
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Knee deep in crime rhyme, in coke? my shoulders |
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What you know about hidin' your bricks in Folgers? |
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With Grandmothers and Aunts as primary holders |
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Whassup lover? tell 'em take aim or take cover |
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Cause we poppin' cross hand and christen your little Brother |
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Eagle eye block strutters composed of Baby Mothers |
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How they ???? we seen double |
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[Hook] x2 |
