Lyrics:
from Staten Island
(Ah Mister Cee, and you don't stop)
Yo, times is getting hard, word is bond
I swear to God i even got caught trying to
Steal from
yo' ass up
You know where we comin' from
Death Row! BIATCH! Ha ha hahaha!
A yo, Kurupt, you first to blast, nigga
And you know how we do it
Roddy (Slut), We blowing biscotti She know ima big Cat Run wit the mob don’t get yo ass robbed they call me John Gotti, smoking big pack gas just fuck up
gon' hit yo' ass up.
You know where we comin' from
Death Row bitch Ay yo Kurupt
You first to blast nigga and you know how we do it
sellin', been supplyin' since
Leave niggas on the ground like tire prints
We done make ya eyes look bent, just by the sense
These niggas don't believe
Yo
Yea, Uh Huh, Yea
We in the door now
Yea
Holla, Rule nigga, With the F-A-B-O haha, Yea
Yea
Cluemanatti
My nigga
Holla back nigga
Yea, Uh,
Sidney crosby
I watch my mama chop a brick, no karate
We be couped like Audi
Tough as Teflon Don, no John Gotti
I told you before, I'm a rap star
Fast car,
comin' like the Gotti boys
Bodies bein' found on Greenleaf
With their fuckin' heads cut off, motherfucker, I'm Dre
So listen to the play-by
comin' like the Gotti boys
Bodies bein' found on Greenleaf
With their fuckin' heads cut off, motherfucker, I'm Dre
So listen to the play-by
see-muthafuckin' Murder,
Q.B., Gotti, and Mr. Magic
When we hit 'em we hit 'em hard you heard me
Chorus [Fiend] 2X
Don't cry now
Nigga, don't wine now
Do you believe
Believe in me
You know I'm gonna go far
Been traveling the world work too hard
Can you see, yea
The vision I'm trying to achieve
I
believe, you leave with me
We be freakin' all night like we was on E
You need to trust the God and jump in the car
For a little hard eight at the Taj
What ?!
I’m buying the by the brick (2 Paints)
In the trap where I’m doing my shift (All Day)
Pull up get a bag and dip (Dip Dip)
If I make em mad
believe in even if you believe yo belief ain't much
I believe everybody gotta purpose
Even if you purposely say that you don't
I believe everybody wanna
believe, you leave with me
We be freakin' all night like we was on E
You need to trust the God and jump in the car
For a little hard eight at the Taj
King,
But follow Jon Gotti, Joe Pesci, armed robbery,
Hard body, body hard doggy fuck up your bodyguard,
Dolly call us the shotty ma,
Y'all'll call up
Rock cocaine all by myself
Poured propane all on myself
Go so hard might harm myself
Yeah nigga, uh, yeah nigga
Yeah nigga, yeah nigga
Yeah, it's
Rock cocaine all by myself
Poured propane all on myself
Go so hard might harm myself
Yeah n****, uh, yeah n****
Yeah n****, yeah n****
Yeah, it's
the wack, who tryin to bite my style
Take yo ass to da old school
And part your fuckin' eyebrows
I comin' through to
About to get set
So act like WU
and adopted
By the streets but the
Gift he brought with him to this world
Will effect our outlooks on not only
Rap music but on life as well, forever
Forever
on my porch gettin' high I'm like Smokey
Chipped up celly
Cussin' out Sony (Where the fuck is my cheque?)
Yo! I don't just live by reputation
I'm
Block away watch by Gotti and Girvano
It's la costra nostra, someone close approach ya
They'll toast ya gopher, bread loaf with shofer
Old coke they
The life, the life (the life, the life)
The life, the life (the life, the life)
[Verse 1 - Ja Rule]
Yo, what up world, it's Rule public enemy number one
it's
gon' hit yo' ass up.
You know where we comin' from
Death Row bitch Ay yo Kurupt
You first to blast nigga and you know how we do it
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