Lyrics:
the night before New Year's, and all through the fuckin' projects
Not a handgun was silent, not even a Tec
Outside as I'm stuck, by enemies who put fear
suits, linen fabrics
Three quarter croc, sharper than a pastor be
Sig bring the light to the masses
Of these rap bastards, who gives street passes
One
suits, linen fabrics
Three quarter croc, sharper than a pastor be
Sig bring the light to the masses
Of these rap bastards, who gives street passes
One
from Wolf of Wall Street (Wolf of Wall Street)
I was caught up with that white girl like I'm Tiger Woods (Woods)
On the painkillers (killers), but I'm
down with pipes fifth and gallons of the finest nitrous
Oh girl now pass the joint to the nigga big head
Where I hear about your scheamin' but
can't stop
Yeah the girls are in the back blastin' that good ol hip-hop
Call up some friends disturb the peace
Play a smash by Jaz or Jay-Z's dope
goin out
For the punk motherfuckers that's showin out
Niggaz start to mumble, they want to rumble
Mix em and cook em in a pot like gumbo
Goin off
Sherry was a waitress at the only joint in town.
She had a reputation as a girl who'd been around.
On Main street after midnight, a brand new pack
the street
Ever front on him (yeah) that's how you get popped
(Girl) lil' shorty wop (wop) fatty and she hot (hot)
Young thuggin' in the street, givin' up
So I asked her if she'd mind could we share a little time
Told me that would be just fine
Couldn't believe I had her by my side
Who'd ever thought
about
I'm a fresh MC, who's on his way
To be an MC with the most to say
And to all those out there, that don't know me
I go by the name of D. M. C.
nigga who love to kill but he get faded first
You say Nuski name in vain, that's who gon' get it worst
Chasing who? Not chasing hoes, we chase
Yea wassup baby girl
I'm just looking over this homework
I really need some help
You wanna study with me?
That'd be nice, yea
[Chorus]
I
tomorrow
You keep fuckin' around in them streets
You ain't gon' pass to the next grade, eleventh grade
(Is that Kendrick on the phone?)
Yo' daddy
I'm incredible I mix up shit like cake mix
Keep it blazin hot rhymes burn to keep you frost bit
MC's is assed out cause they lost it
Peep my
Deliverin' hot shit like Pizza Hut for them hardcore thugs
Niggaz who pimp bitches and hit the highway with them drugs
Feel my flow, mix it in witcha chronic
to go after B
And I still smash on C
I got two fifth on me
Like the quarterback of the cheese
I'm in the field, no cleats
Breakin' that seal by the P
of the upper-class
Give her an inch
Aren't supporting a single ass
That would rise for the girl
She'll take a mile
Such a shame she wandered into our enclosure
stressed, fiendin' just to hold some heat
I guess it came from all the stories that he heard in the street
I can't explain it, its ill how we used to feel
Girls, rub on your titties (Yeah)
Yeah fuck it I said it rub on ya titties
New York City gritty committee, pity the fool that act shitty
In the midst
want to rumble
Mix 'em and cook 'em in a pot like gumbo
Goin' off on a motherfucker like that
With a gat that's pointed at your ass
So give it up
Can we please have a moment of silence?
That's for my niggas doin' years in confinement
And for my soldiers who passed over, no longer living
That
and they're mine
They're yours and mine
Cause they're yours and they're mine
Yours and mine
So you think that it's so easy
Just to let I pass you by
You
Yeah
Armor-piercing, no defense against
Who his henchmen is, what they pension is
Concur by division, have his homeboy hit him
So close, he
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