Yeah, you know I had to get Bad Boy up on this piece
You know I had to get Bad Boy up on this piece!
Big shot to my man Puff Daddy, Notorious B.I.G., one time!
Id rather not breathe than snitch
And I love my niggas not my bitch, LOX pop the clip
If the rap game was the dope game
I be a chink named Liu Kang, sellin Montega on my own plane
Movin with, entrepreneurs, who run the law
Coke sniffin bitches holdin fours, talkin war
Back to reality my mentality is fatality
Niggas makin way over they salary
I think way out, like a fifty state lay-out
Thugs meetin up in one city to have a spray out
Cartels bring in they coke, havin a weigh out
Kingpins is crowned, blunts is lit
Ayo Styles dont exist, so a cell aint shit
Jail aint shit, Godll just teach me quick
If they put me in a cell then my ghostll drift
Hold my inf, feel my soul give me the strength
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Pop the gat, aim, squeeze precisely
Where them niggas at? Them faggots are sheisty
See the problems that, you way too nice, please
Where that coke at? Fuck where it might be
Dont be like me, hard-headed, and stubborn
When my gun burn, much hotter than sunburn
You got one turn, I suggest you show
Me the stash to the cash and the blow, yo
Wherever I go, my crew, is true to swarm
Got stripes in New York like Yankee uniforms
When I was born, I know I make the world darker
The age of fifteen, tote gats, quick to spark ya
Like Bob Barker, if the price is right
Lay your ass down for spite, anybody, aight?
Went from eatin no frills cereals with food stamps
To Armani materials, coppin Rembrandts, what!
I got cats to spray for me, honeys that pay for me
Money that lay for me, mami, pray for me
Cats that spray for me, honeys that pay for me
Money that lay for me, mami, pray for me
Uhh, uhh, talkin to me doin shit for you, try God
Cause after one in your cabbage you as good as retard
Mr. Big Style, too cool, I did this to you
Whirlpool maxin, lounge to the end
Elevator, next stop, Tony and LaFrenz
While yall still fuckin with them twins from Flatte
Im out in Vegas, tryin to strip Stacey Dash
Fuck police talk black, I dont do shit in New York
Too many super cops nigga, you can have these blocks
And these hoes, with them cheap ass Parasucos
Get some new clothes, then I let you front in my Porsche
And give Jay head, til your squeaky voice turns hoarse
Four minutes and twenty five seconds to your end
You know it be the Kiss, grantin your last wish
Everybody wanna know who The LOX is
Cause we aint spittin nuttin out but that hot shit
Burnin trees, sippin Mo, eatin lobsters
Up in the oriental joint, usin chopsticks
Soon we gon rock gators, hit bitches from Barbados
Then all yall players gon hate us
Cause everything we do stay gettin overlooked
Now yall be shook cause you dealin with real crooks
I cant lie for a while yall cats was on us
But now, if you cant beat us, join us
We tryin to blow lye with the Sultan of Brunei
In it for the cheddar, Gucci slip-ons and sweaters
Black M5 with the headers
Andrew Mark be the leathers, mob hats with the feathers
Whatever, Goodfellas, uhh