Paid in Full

[Intro: Solomon Childs] Uh, I was gettin' it (king of N.Y.) I was gettin' it, I gettin' it man (you already know) I'm tellin' you man, I was gettin' it I don't know about all these other dudes frontin' But when I was 16, I had a BMW 325i, man I was in the marking homes, I had pair of fly sneakers every week Every week, I was buying bitches sneakers, I was buyin' these kids sneakers They mommas sneakers, I was gettin' it, man, ya'll niggas is up to something, man I'm tellin' you man, I was doing my numbers, man Niggas don't know about the God, man M.V.P. for life, man, you already know, man... [Solomon Childs] Lick the red beam, '92 summer getting that CREAM Tinted window, BMW team Plenty Hancock to steam, it's how it's done My favorite color is green, murder on the rise Niggas know the lesson of scheme, stick up the fiend Buckshot filler, with my momma, used to play Park villa You pussy, I smell the tuna on your breath, nigga, kamikaze colors Uh, the numero runners, the undercovers We swing ammo, you swing lumber Penetrate through your bitch ass style like ox cutters I'm playing for keeps, bullet holes in the rental jeeps So if you think I'm bullshittin', and you feel frog Leap, so I can send ya fat baby mother a reef And you ain't heard nothing yet, this is only a piece It's only a piece... [Interlude: sample (Solomon Childs)] "We interrupt this broadcast, to bring you a special news bulletin From our on the spot passport" (You know what we doing man, making it happen, man All day, man, you know what it do to you baby, come on Cats hating on me, to the top, uh... fucking haters, all the way to the stop, uh, uh) [Solomon Childs] Fuck the douljas, I want the head of the chief The general grips, the president's kids Off your feet with the baboon juice, let the venom loose I blow you out your Bathing Apes, this is for the high stakes Shrimps and steaks, acres and lakes Ounces of big eights, it's the good life, I wanna taste No more window shopping like 50 Cent and Mase No more roof for roaches, my whole crib laced Whispering, love songs in a room filled with roses like Beyonce and Case On the front cover of Trace, not for nothing, been a hard road And ain't too much my mind erased I'm living humble, try'nna embrace I'm telling you, man, I'm living humble, I'm trying embrace Before I got to put one of these faggot niggas in a backbrace Let the venom chase, you and your team...