Lyrics:
It's bussin out like a full clip
No strings attached
How I'm gon' say no to that
I'll have you flat on yo back
I need my vat and tax oh yeahuh
Party
the dream but The dream is a lie
And we're unfucked because the motherfucking taxes won't go up
You want a better street but the economies fucked up
Misplaced
moving
No direction chosen
Rolling over emotion
Guess I'm your party man
Then, up upon this high wall
Looking at the street lights
All spread out
of the squad but they cannot coach
(At all) louis Vuitton holster
This for my niggas in the cell
And on they wall
They got a Nicki Minaj poster
The talk's over,
Politicians, Quiet Tax)
Shut 'em down
Shut 'em down (Shut 'em down)
Shut 'em down (Shut 'em down)
Yes, we shut 'em down
(Bailouts, Wall Street, Cold
block (Okay)
Yeah, we bang, it's a G
Thing, throw c notes, pop G-strings
(For sure, Coke Boy
Baby) I took a vacation from the streets
And party with my
ain't even talkin' street shit
Young Angel, Young Lion, I'm done tryin'
I'm just doin', who's drinkin'? 'Cause I'm buyin'
It's on me, everything is
captions
Propose driving by a few ah dey mansions
Meh bredrins go torch d tyre meh sistren keep major lazers so to the wall she fire
The people's party this
Miss me with the bullshit and the foolery (Bihh)
Look at what they did to Wall Street
Feel the spirits by the cultural center
That's supposed to be our
Party!
(Okay party people in the house)
Yo yo, in the place to be
My name is MC Ice-T
I got the Rhyme Syndicate with me
We about to tear
together past the postered walls
With the crude remarks
And they meet at parties with the friends of friends
Who they never know
"Will you pick it up
to a cocktail party
With the bores next door,
What was the first thing that I saw?
Ducks, ducks on the wall.
Ducks, ducks hanging on the wall.
My baby's
as fuck
Fried food be addin' up, the system thrives off its victims
They ask how this economic collapse
Can affect people all over the map
Tea party for tax
make friends with the friends with the freaks,
I wanna throw it down with the clowns that I meet,
I wanna have a party in the middle of the street
I
heat rock
Hardhead, go through walls like sheet rock
And she's comin' with me, when the beat stop
When the party is done, I party with hon
Now, is it
What you gonna do when the walls close in?
What you gonna do when it all goes grim?
What you gonna do when it's all on top
And they still wanna know
Those the twenties dropped bunch for village
Meet me near the wall pink vintage loser with
L this east williams' brooklyn don't stops that
Nites 'n
Yeah, when your back against the wall
You cannot fall
I can turn my youngin' to The Rock
Make 'em stand tall
We both got guns
Fuck you wanna have
Uno in testa, quattro nel mag
Nuovo magazine, non è da softair
Nuovo Rollie, lo regalo allo chef
Siamo fuori Italia, non paghiamo le tax
Ah, Wall mi
Checking out my ride
Let them snap photos
Inside
White walls stay wide
Watch me slide
Watch me glide
Watch me slide
Watch the low low glide
There's a party
will read your name, while these bullets give you fame
I’m so muthafucking certified, walking down the streets with a dirty 9
Asked her can I come
Yeah
Yeah yeah
Ew aww stay tap
I just popped a bean Imma sleep on that yeah
Ew aww too nast
I just hit the street up my speed to fast yeah
Ugh Ah ah
to Atlanta, where the players play
And we ride on them thangs like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin'
And parties don't stop 'til eight
to Atlanta, where the players play
And we ride on them thangs like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin'
And parties don't stop 'til eight
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