Lyrics:
bro, drop him like he dame-dash
I never tote a Smith and Wesson cause the handle ass
He ain't get no get back, but he lit a candle fast
If he play me
I'll never switch up, I need to stay true
If you run up on me pussy what you tryna do
I'll up the Smith & Wesson
Yeah you know I'll never lose
Got
like the prince he tote a hot smith
Always getting rowdy in the spot he hate he not rich
Left on two occasions
One to give the life up in the hood but
Gotta count it fast never come in last
Yea she throw back now it's in the past
Drew fuck them bitches by the 2s
Wait naw by the groups
Head better in
fill the block, the fun stops
Niggas is callin' cops, people shot, nobody stops
I wonder when the world stopped carin', last night
Two kids shot while
With an architectural design by TraxNYC, believe it
I'd ask to rock it, but I might fall
And by the way, how much of a ball was Live at Carnegie Hall?
the love, ain't worried
Bout what a title say
Never played by the books
Don't tell me what the Bible say
But it's a guide to survival
That tells you how
Yea
This that psychedelic liberation army shit
We buyin' berettas, smith n wesson's and startin' businesses
When government chedda can't solve
Someone to chill with, Keep it real with
Tell me when I'm not fresh and on my nephew of Uncle Phil shit
Steel pride, like I was forged by a will smith
Did
Pocket watching try me n**** best believe i'll kill you all
They might just try to kill me
So I'm thugging by myself
Blicky, that's wit me, smith
of duckin' one time
I told my nigga give me a price, he said love
They gon' be gone by the night like they Suge
We need a bride for this Glock 'cause we
don't loan mines, homeboy; that's correct (that's correct).
What accurate? Yo mind or Corona numbaz (Corona numbaz)?
Been on green, like Mrs. Smith's
a minute
Don't compare me to them other niggas
Desert Eagle, Smith & Wesson
I'm about to go to war, gon' pledge allegiance
Where the real friends at when
Mike Tyson fought Ali in his prime?
What if Will Smith got gangsta, and start cursin' rhymes?
What if Erick never met Parrish?
Think they'd be makin'
[Chorus: x2]
Do that there
How ya how ya how ya how ya how ya
Do that there
How ya do that [Repeat: x4]
And they be like
How ya do that
How ya
living by the book
We fill the jails in France, Uzes and Italy
Never do dirt in our own land
That shit's forbidden, G
Hoxha singing from the top
ground ground
Cut up in soul soul by the pound pound
I'm going downtown like Julie Brown I'm the round mound
Not a rebound but like a hound I get
the funkadelic relic
(bring in the funk baby, bring it in, bring it)
James Todd Smith and nine years old
When Sugarhill was in control
I'm listenin'
turning caine into rocks
And I carry two glocks so I can't be stopped
From the city to the state I'm pushing rhymes like weight
Pitbulls by
I was in Tahoe, on the California side,
waiting in the lobby at 665 1/2 Frontage Road
when two extra-blond, short-sleeve, button-down,
anytime that I lace mine,
Light up the stage for the homies we make shine
Sick the dogs on you, get more by the K-9!
Homies on the yard never walk in
[Chorus: x2]
Yo you gotta go you gotta go you gotta go
(G: And aiyyo what you don't know believe the ghetto knows)
[Kool G. Rap]
New York
seen, she like a present
Brand new 'Rarri, I got that stick inside this bitch
Don't try to test me
One hunnid or better, we get to dumpin' Smith
shit
[Chorus 2X: Raekwon]
My niggas won't stop til we straight, select bigger gates
We won't stop until we buyin' estate, yo
Pull out them burners
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