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作词 : Dennis Coles |
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作曲 : Danny Caiazzo/Toure Smith |
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Haha, yeah |
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Tony Stark, n1gga |
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I ain't going nowhere, yeah |
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Y'all feel me? |
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We about to finish this al', dawg, uh-huh |
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Tell 'em, Tone Tone |
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Yo, yo, yo |
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Yo, the old lady said the shooter was 5'6" |
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And she don't know how he got away with five of them bricks |
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Across the street, a group of men held nine sticks |
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Those is choppers being sprayed, and all of em' missed, uh |
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Lil' bro got away with it |
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He promised me four of them joints if I stayed with him, uh |
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What the fxxk y'all think? |
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I wasn't born with a slit between my legs with a hole that's pink? |
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Nah, I'm a gangster, besides getting paper |
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I move my pawns, fxxk around and get rook |
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Besides that, any jux session |
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Deny me for any stones in your skin, you get cooked |
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Haha, blood spillin' like lava |
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Face on the hot concrete, no agua |
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Nasty killer with horror |
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You wasn't even the main entree, how's that for a starter? |
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(Party over here) |
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I'm talking like it's about to get deadly, we stay getting ready |
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(Party over here) |
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Staten Island stay stylin', boy, turn off the lights like Teddy |
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(Party over here) |
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More paper, hoes that's swallowing 'scato on the late tip |
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(Party over here) |
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Don't you dare run, n1gga |
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Just hand over the goods, or we'll take it |
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Bottle after bottle, Remy dark, Goose, Moscato |
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Threw the club into gear full throttle |
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Players on one side, killers on the other |
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Hoes in the middle, plus it's jam-packed, flooded |
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Sweating through my silk, real life, I might tuck it |
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Mad hoes, got 'em on the string like a puppet |
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Party over here, lil' n1ggas stepped on my kicks |
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without sayin' pardon over here |
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Two of my goons seen it, followed him over there |
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Came back with whatever that fxxkboy had in his ear |
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Neck, chest, wrists, he couldn't persevere |
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Pat Riley on his neck, gave up the jewels like, "Here" |
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Nickel-plated bulldogs, 12-inch Rugers and long leathers |
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To pluck any bird n1gga feather |
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Staten Island, we get ours regardless |
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Don't forget, we do the pressin', y'all just press charges |
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(Party over here) |
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I'm talking like it's about to get deadly, we stay getting ready |
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(Party over here) |
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Staten Island stay stylin', boy, turn off the lights like Teddy |
| [02:28.03] |
(Party over here) |
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More paper, hoes that's swallowing 'scato on the late tip |
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(Party over here) |
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Don't you dare run, n1gga, just hand over the goods, or we'll take it |
