Uh huh
This shit is funky right here
You know what it is right?
They don't want to see us blow
They don't want to see us go
They don't want to see us blow
Hell no, no
We move as the end the way we came in the door
Hit the club, I'ma leave with your hoe
Ho, ho
My flames be hot every time that I throw
Ain't nothing new son, I did this before
G-G-O
My niggas flip money like it ain't no mo'
Vessel of friends, but it ain't no mo'
For the lust of currency, they put they trust in this country
All your friends be cunningly when they hungry
Jealousy wanna stop the profit
Niggas hate to see money in our pockets
But we don't knock it
Souls get sold like stock markets
Regardless, we been heartless
With or without revolvers
We been this way before Godfathers
Or Al Pacino
Catch me with blacks and latinos
Jamaicans, Mexicans, Malcom X again with a pen
Set a trend, watch you and your friend go copy it
Got Boriqua screaming how papi is sick
The illest shorty on the floppy disk, watch me eclipse
Surpass and outshine all that light you get
First you live, then you breathe it out, write it and spit
And I'ma leave with the same deeds I came in with
You can't die with no riches you got
The bitches you got
Enjoy life before it could stop, it's too short
What's hip hop without New York
You should've thought
I seen brothers get they face cut over Newports
Stick up kids who live for you to take your shoes off
We got lawyers working for us that'll lie in the court
Still repent even if Christ ain't die on the cross
Gamble life like a dice game
Head crack or roll aces
Death pays off your sin wages
This take place on a weekly basis
In this business of handshakes and smiling faces
Hatred from a whole ghetto made us racist
Exclusive, got fanatics, can't wait to tape it
Spiritual, so a secret agent can't trace it
Blessed be the souls seek patience
We ain't too far from y'all, start to worship or go pagan
It's the God in the form of Satan
Until nation rise against nation
You got wars and more rumors of wars, it's yours truly
Every track out, I drop jewelry
I'm reality, not a movie
You be a sitcom, I sit calm while hip hop sit in my palm
Let me hear a rhyme that ain't about crime and fire arms
I'm a quiet bomb
Y'all niggas can't disconnect
If my voice ever left, I'ma use the internet
Ask Meth if I'm hot enough to come as a threat
And is it safe for you to put down and place your bet
You want a hit record, tell your label cut me a check
I leave 'em scared to rhyme, have a verse stuck in his neck
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