Lyrics:
with Donald Trump (oh)
I don't take nothin' too personal, play 50 Cent, I'ma Kurtis Blow
Gold grill and a greasy 'fro, no peace to the PDO
I like
struggles
But we ain't gonna end up the same
I'm blowing smoke
Medication out if I blow
Up I'm moving slow
Losing my psyche
Purple do it
Purple do it, Purple
I'm in here
Got all you freaks lookin'
When we walk by, pussy start cookin'
Rookies start tookin'
Get your ass up, V.I.P. Section's gettin' tooken
better than you by my side
Yeah then you give me hell for a smell, a high life on my breath
I say, come on, now you knew I'd be right here
I was up
ready, so ready
I'm a red hot pistol
And I'm ready to fight
I'm a thirty eight special
On a Saturday night
I'm gonna kiss your boo-boo honey
Make it
2-1-5)
We settin it from Southside, pushin this up North
From Illadelphian reps, to fly points across the map
Bring it back to Respond/React
Then bring it
the trenches, it's the Patti's Dooke
(It might blow up but it won't go pop)
(It might blow up but it won't go pop)
(It might blow up but it won't go pop)
do
You be up in the club
I be up in the clouds
Oh, don't gotta ask me if I brought enough
'Cause' we don't run out
Blow it by the o, even my fans
California where us youngstas slang that cocaine
and we be hoppin it up and choppin it up and rockin it up
to tens twenties fifties and hundreds
Its the D the I the D the D the Y
The D the I the D
It's Diddy, (Hold Up) It's Diddy (That's crazy)
It's the D the I the D the D the Y
The D the I
and the endo sack, make me slack?
Cock tailed or V'd up, gettin' swiss cheesed up
Please don't blow my high
(blow my high)
When I'm sippin' that purple
ass open stuff ya like a duck what
Attraction recarnation in a slump twenty-five cents
And a German dick pumped up
Shoulda known the killa from
We poppin' rubber bands!
Spend this money by the grand!
We Poppin' rubber bands, spend
This money by grand
What you make up in a week
Nigga I got it
FUCKER!
New and improved Wu-Tang style
Turn it up now, y'all done fucked up now
Spit flames (Five mics)
BK (On site)
Bring the pain (All night)
Off
Flashback, nineteen eighty-two
It's a Saturday, and I'm with my crew
After the cartoons, we're ready to go
Got a five-dollar bill, ready to blow
Times is roughing Timberland cuffing
Won me a G up off to Rio
Hope we can pull it back my throat my only weapon blow the beat up
Stuff pillow bags in
brains
Slangin' yayo, it all remains the same
Step and you'll catch some buck shots
Murder one on the Clair my glock glock
Mo thugs what's up nigga
(Ah)
Put it to your face
Watch a motherfucker blow
(Boo boo boo boo boom)
Daytona, different color face on the road
(Ah)
Ten on his head, he be dead by
to fold my beard
Check one, two, Sonny, tell Bob to dim the lights up
You see the studs, I want the red strobe to hit it right
Stones are screaming, hot
the scene all red but I'm fine by it
Shoot him up like wick
Stand by my word ion trust no tricks
Bought some brand new kicks
Mess around, try to play, im
it real after you blow
Three ki's, new V's, went to Anguilla with your ho
Stayed around the hood, smoothest cat, getting the dough
Them old timers,
got to tell you where it's coming from
Guns of Navarone tearing up your battle zone
Rip through your slums
I twist darts from the heart, tried
Just a dollar ticket in and twenty-five cents a beer
They play rock and roll music like it hasn't been rocked for years
[Chorus]
Well when I hear
and everything ain't great
It's like everybody mind is in the same old state, ya know
I'll throw a nigga fucked up with his revenues
I'ma tell you four fuckin'
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