Yo, Saturday night, Ridin' Kansas fried chicken poppin' kid? we in the mix It's chilly below Gate's closed catch Dr. J's Blowin' my hand, rub on my Tap the glass, frontin' duke, fresh pair of jeans Look I got loot, eleven in the boots Heard a screech pull up, jukes flashed me five pictures One had my man's mug, semi stepped brother
You asked the guy son I'm from Melina, we know Mr. Coles Flew in two days ago to see his But we been watchin' you, The whole Staten shittin' on you Wisdom bird's pregnant out in Hold up snow in your ear, fresh baldie to change up Not trunk today, still fly, still slammed up hung Your mom pop in trunk, slow your pace Starks fixed your face, out the six, five years probat'
You dealin' with a lot of science, motherfucker watchin' you Make me wanna lick at you You disgust me, me down, grab my gun Go bust me, heard you hate juke that's what it must be Hands behind back, spread your legs Just found a in your tray not mine fucker, what I said You met the nigga A multi dollar operation is based upon it yo
Where's the hell's the sellin' mics, wildest joints Special made to go up in your hand and went out on point to the next scene, I'm at the crib buggin' out On how po' live, plus harassin' the kid the truck in the double face garage Dial one nine hundred raekwon, tell the God, shit's Reel flashin' me on bet, planet groove, rap city N A C P committees
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