作词 : Hal David
作曲 : Corey Woods/Dennis Coles/Burt Bacharach/Peter Phillips
[Intro] Holllllllld it!
Now you get out of here,
I'm warning you (You bastards can't push us around - wanna fight?)
I'll take you on [Raekwon]
That *************'s twisted
Stop playin with that clip man
Close them ****** blinds too man, y'knahmsayin?
Yo Don my man, get out of the stove man
Get away from the stove *************
Stop playin man, the ************* is you talkin 'bout?
I'm in the crib watchin
Larry King
Live, the new
Guccis on
Refridgerator, smokin some kush, this *************'s a lighter
Swisher, becomin a roach, go get the glass ashtray
Pour the glass of
Crut, tap the bottle then toast
Barrie took a sip of the coors, yeah my son
Soon to be 3, tried to fill his bottle then run
Then I got a collect call, heard *************z down the block is fightin
Some ************* got knifed up brawlin
Heard the kid was 19,
Lil' Infinity too
His father worked up at the dealer he loved
Wu They tried him for his
Louis', son wasn't havin it though
Yeah, yeah my *************, the color of glue
Decided on a intervene, guess who tried to wild on me my *************
This is like out of the blue
I'm in the
Range stretch, jumped out, tucked the chain
Proceded to talk to him, then you heard the heavy face slap
Think I broke my wrist, now
I'm at the hospital vexed
****** up my writing hand, that's my check
Now I wanna kill this lil' ************* true
Only thing that stop my gun flamin cause he related to you [Ghostface]
Who? He ain't related to me
Just that
I knew him for like 18 years until he violated, stealin my gear
My lil' homey, yo he eat anything for me
Send him uptown, he get bagged, yo he never call me
Come home and still blow cats for me
Pump crack, stabbin all them hoodrat shorties
A live gunslinger well known, born to dance
When the heat is on,
Stapleton days, shoot hisself in the groin
The gun went off, it looked like a flick
When he fell to the floor, holdin his nuts, screamin "God damnit *************t I put one in my *************, what the ************* y'all lookin at me for? Call the police, do somethin Mother******s standin around, watch when I get better All hell's gonna be terror Death to you, you," he pointed at
Red I said chill that's fam duke
He put real work in that make you puke, ************* that
But anyway son indeed, he stole two
Polo rugbies
Swore to his dead mother,
I couldn't take it
Yo Lord I knocked out his teeth
Now he's rockin those false joints like everything's peace