Lyrics:
a Lincoln on hold
OG by the O, shit my mans and 'dem grow
On the low he blend in think he regular joe
He the plug
Pump so much bass I need another sub
Ask
to war, okay?)
Everybody's coming with guns
Niggas gettin' pimped by Columbians
They put 'em on the streets like a bitch
Nigga's slangin' but
, then I'm coo, coo, coo, coo...
Aight Cool!
Verse 2
When I step through
they say "Sneak, that's you?"
I say, "Nah, baby girl I want to freak you too"
eye open while the other two drift
Together specimens from the promise land
This for the thinkers
This for the merchants allergic to they own
York, big city of dreams
And everything in New York ain't always what it seems
You might get fooled if you come from outta town
But I'm down by law,
Long Beach
Put your ear to the street so you can hear my heartbeat
[Royce Da 5'9"]
Nickel! Yeah
I hope niggaz know I'll show up to your show
I'll show
one two straight from the basement
Straight from the basement
I’m tellin' you now, kid
It’s crazy fat
I wonder who this is comin' up?
Fourth
One, take it to the streets let the whole world know it
It's the chance for your big career, don't blow it
Or get it blown from the top gun nigga
I ain't
Inflamed with mucus. Deep state full disclosure
Secretly sealed in indictments. 5g unleashed. Folding your composure
Elite C.E.O's randomly step down 2
interesting it's me, Dana Dane
I lived in a house with my cruel step-dad
And two step-brothers who treated me bad
I cooked, I cleaned, I scrubbed the floors
soul
I'm in control, let's keep it on the low
Watching your g-string, move across the dance flo'
While Moe over fo', screwed up moving slow
Only
and coffee
And I'll be back once I get off these concrete streets
Infrared scope and I'm mad as fuck
I'm on the roof tryin to duck from the pigs, cause they
hang it up
Go somewhere and hang up some 50 posters, PUNK
You speak too late, y'all prolly gon' go up to them awards
and get yo' ass whooped by B2K
I
Press down
Shape up
Never settle for the pay cuts
Street culture raised us
Show the whole world what it made us
Sprinting on the blacktop, I could
Yo, what up, it's your boy Dae-Dae
Yo, what up, it's RichboyRC and you're listening to Cartridge by Jay Browne
On 1(800)813-4evr: Deluxe
Dae-dae,
my reach
To tell what really goes on from cells to the streets
Now in LA as you know there's a war going on
And it's been going on since before I was
Pull up on me if you need sumn
That money you flex Dats my weed money
Try playing with me ima treat sumn
That shit on my neck cost like three sumn
don't talk, niggas, Way too much weaponry
Axlowe, SLOW O' Quinn, And Mack Major JT, the BigGA fiGGA, cheering in The bass
I'm from the wood, nigga, Up
smooth
This chopped cheese is from Red Hook
And this Glock was 3D printed in Bangladesh
This shit is international
I'm posted up at the crib-o with
Y'all know what this is
D-Block
Oh yeah by the way
This is the remix
Who!
You can kiss your ass good-bye
D-Block D-Block D-Block D-Block
La
body felt broken my knees collapsed in that room
I woke up early at six
Hopped in my old Ford, escape
And left that campus destroyed
By 46 and 3rd Street
before you even know
You better leave the dope
Up at the heathens door
Because the thief is roaring
Like a lion devouring all the people
To keep em from
And servin' through a stick up or somethin'
Now, I gotta pick up the pump and let it ride
All or nuthin', step aside, or you can hit the paper big time
You
the streets will catch you slipping, rock ya steady
Watch your back with your homies that you feel is real
Your homeboys from your crew, yeah them the ones
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