Lyrics:
Flippin' keys by the tons
Twenty five grand a week, fiends creep
No sleep nor do they eat
Bed around 6 feet deep
More goals to be achieved in
This hip hop
2k on some new Jays
Blu-Ray on the new chain 14k by the way goddamn
We gon' eat regardless
Twenty20 starting five can't nobody guard us
You niggas
O's in a key, everybody free
Murder One felons with the glocks, twenty-four hours on the block
Bodies gettin' dropped, five thousand niggas actin'
featuring Killa Sin Method Man Raekwon the Chef X 1
wu tang wu tang onyx onyx (x3)
[Raekwon]
eh yo
staircases to stage
four-twenty-five and you can keep that
Hand me a crack sack and watch me make a big gap
Nigga, I'ma ride long and super fat, jack
'Cause I'm a dope dealer,
giving twenty-five percent
So i dropped her and ran that shit up to the next
But there must've been a X on my chest
And my bag man ian finna stop it
plate (show me how you give, I'll tell you how to live)
Your total's twenty-two eleven
For your set of keys to heaven
Make the checks out in my name
Me
the L.A. Leakers, believe that
Y'all already know what it is man
If you don't you should by now
Hahahahaha
[Chorus]
we dey
Two by two we jolly
Three by three we dey
Four by four we jolly
Five by five we dey
Six by six we jolly
Four by four we dey
As we scatter
Gold yellow yellow, Chinese skin
Fuck two best friends living lavish
Gyal dem love me style and image
Cubans 'round mi neck Louis V mek she wet
Every
on they necks 'til they can't breathe
Claim they five stars but sell you dreams
They say death multiplies by threes
Line them all up and let's just see
Fuck
ta get a plaque
So why you wanna go and do that, huh?
[Chali 2na]
I don't know man 'cause we see fiends who dream c.r.e.a.m
Reppin' the west
sent to attack, so I'm following the map
X's mark the rappers out with two head with
Furocious cademies that only need with the next spliff
Step by step
a grown man cry
(Chorus 2x)
(Murphy Lee)
Ay yo my money like a Black Man March
Jeans Baggy and Starched
Vokal Sweater matchin the leather
In my third car
by some misfires in your brain
Because you took some shit to numb your pain
Yes, you guessed it
The culprits here are opiates
Methadone, man
Vicodin,
And of course, we show no remorse
I'm doing one-twenty with your ho in the Porsche
[Chorus: x2]
[Too Short]
Till death do us part, with all your heart
It
up closing many doors
Next 8yrs looking in the mirror still wasn't clear on exactly who I was
Another 2yrs and my 20's are gone wouldn't trade them in
Intro: Raekwon the Chef, Method Man
What that nigga want God?
Word up, look out for the cops [Wu-Tang five finger shit]
(Cash Rules) Word up, two
a dirty overcoat
At the foot of the pillar of the road
Propped inside was an old man
Whom time could not erode
The night was snapped by sirens
Those
cookin' cocaine gettin' hard off (hard off)
Twenty five and a sawed off (boom)
Eight dimes for the eighty ho plus four in the back
Baby a quarter pound
got the work in the duffle
Eat sleep, shit, breathe, Hustle
The game bang russell simmons
Gun tucked under the linen
V12 stock engine (yeah)
Don’t
with three .45s
Two F&Ns, a small percentage that we gon' die
This bulletproof forever, my mom sleep better
So, she don't cry
This shit we smoke make
Just turned twenty-two man what a life I live
I was getting to it back then when we was kids
So don't be surprised if a nigga go big
I just went big
by in Porsche
2 years later I'm picking her purses
Get them secret pockets where I hide them percots
4 years I'm counting them murders
Last boy played
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