(Sheek ad libbing)
[Sheek]
Now you can quote me on this
I bust my gun
Also quote me on this
I handle my biz
I knew it was my house when Run was sayin it was his
I ain't lyin
Ain't no cords or no steam in this iron
But it is a permanent press
Have these 38 shells spray starch your chest
Leave you stiff
Coroners make ashes of you
In rap I'm like God n***a forever above you
If I don't do it all I just dial my phone
And you get sprayed through your clothes like you put on cologne
If it's not violence or d** I have nothing to spit
I be lyin if I talk some spiritual sh**
Like Kirk Franklin and them
Y'all just ain't me
I can't tell you about God but I can tell you about a key
And what I'll do to God's children if they jerk me
Hurt me , never , that'll be a sin
I'mma put the Bible to your head and shoot through Matthew verse 10
What
C'mon n***as
What
CHORUS 2X:
[Eve and Jadakiss]
You told me you would bust your guns for me
(Yeah bust your gun dog)
You said you'd always sling your pounds
(Sling the hydro green)
Now you're away and you're all that I need
(You're all that I need baby)
But L-O-X will hold it down
(You know the LOX gonna hold it)
[Jadakiss]
I'm back in the game
I still ride the back of the train
And sit right next to jake with a package of caine
n***as say he realer than me you call him a liar
I got the Audi T T the same color as fire
You just gettin a name
Puttin sh** in the game
Stop fakin
I have your doorag lookin Jamaican
Holey as the water in the front of the church
Then find you with no back plus one in your earth
I can't wait for the day you get murked
Cuz I'mma throw a free party at the Tunnel and give out work
I love myself , my family , and love my son
Love my n***as and love white Air Force Ones
And besides that I'm open off the dro and the guns
And the head you could get from a ho in the slums
n***as always act silly till you show em the milly
Then they got the nerve to ask you why you wanna k** me
Uhh
CHORUS 2X
[Styles]
I know it ain't right
For me to swear to God
But I swear to God that I'll murder you dog
And I know it ain't right
For me to sell dope
Rob stores but I still gotta run from the law
Twenty n***as in the clique
How all of us pour
In a three room apartment and we all on the floor
I reflect to the days I thought of bustin the whip
Now I come through the scene and n***as cuffin they b**h
Feel good to see Kiss spend a buck on his wrists
Or Sheek frontin on a jet ski with a Puerto Rican chick
I dont rock no j**els
But I pops my tools
And I work my coupe to do a buck 68
P hit you in the head like a dutch to the face
Or a cup full of liquor
Come and f** with you n***a
Cuz I make drug money
Gotta take blood from me
If you wanna prove a point pull a joint shoot dummies
CHORUS 3X