Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo Just got off the jack with my son that's up north Tellin me he's comin home, and how he's gettin off ''cause his game was weak, killed two months, he's back in the streets With new plans, to expand, to jerk his mans man We had the ultimate stick up, drop, on the brick pick up But yo he can't, ''cause he's still locked up Jump back on the horn ''cause his vibe was strong Contacted the kid and told him lets be gone I talked to Poet first, yo son, I got a mish-shon Grab the ammunnish-shon, pump up your pythons I know a spot where niggas gettin it, and we can flip on Son they frustrate me, ''cause these niggas pump with no heat They play the night time sweet, like they can't get beat I got their address, to where they rest and stash their shit Yo, I peeped it out how we can creep, yo yo yo These niggas stay sleep Makin sales, smokin out, and they all get ?geeked? Lets catch 'em zoning, brain under, high and headed home and When they least expect it, lets put the gat to his dome He stuck the key in the door, we ??? four four We pushed our way in, we wasn't playin Ready to spray 'em, tied him down to the A.M. Now we layin, for a beamer, and some bitch named Fatima Chorus: Prince AD Communicate for the cake, polly for weight outta state Down on digits on the Isle with son we can't be late We got moves to make, flood the whole New York state Time to skate to other lands to put food on our plate Communicate for the cake, polly for weight outta state Down on digits on the Isle with son we can't be late We got moves to make, flood the whole New York state Time to skate to other lands to put food on our plate Now we travel with the ?Crills Rock? P, Noyd, Onslaught on the hottest road with a car load'a shit Isolated on ya whip, on the south I-95, lightin off and more drive ?Diggy with the seats sung? half a pie in the trunk with the music blastin Clouds of smoke, yo this lifes no joke We from QB son, we ain't tryin to be broke We makin moves to where the money's at, get it up and bring it back New cats the boogie OT knew how to work it Get the money, couldn't keep it ''cause they jerked it Bad habits, livin lavish, rockin front and cabbage Tyrin to follow the leader, but paul paid for peter The dirty south ain't the place to sign, son keep ya heat up I'm from NY, city slicker, beat'choo with the G quicker Business so well I'll have your towns clientelle Kyron but me on through the cell, my OT Get that brick money son, I'll meet you back in QB See we flee off, know how to gee off, know how to eat off Know how to make moves so we can keep the heat off See we prefer to skate, to get this food on our plate And keep our name low key on this New York state You know how ?rule? quiet is kept, lets get this money fool Chorus
Written by: FREDRICK G IVEY, KENNETH R LEWIS, LAMONT JUAREZ PORTER
Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
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"Communications Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2023. Web. 1 Feb. 2023. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric/3306638/Screwball/Communications>.