Tekst piosenki
From the top Back again mothafuckas It's 3 Am in the mornin', like what? Niggas can't fuck with me man. West coast don You know me. HA! AW shit! You know what I'm bout to do this shit Body this shit! Yeah, Blackwall Street niggas The black Jim Hoffa, that's me Chec, chec, check Yo.. [Verse] Eh yo these rap niggas bore me Flow dormant, so corny That's why when I drop shit They jump on it Like dicks they love it Homo niggas Choke when the game on the line Dallas Cowboy Romo niggas I got more bitches, more digits 07 I'm hitting more switches Hip-hop broke, I'm gon fix it I been away for a minute I was in Europe on tour Now I'm back, bonjour The flow is so pure I was baptized by the Doug E Fresh's Lost my way and got reckless Too much beefin' Had me screwed up like Texas So I had to take em back to the '98 Lexus Take the grill out for dinner Chop the crack for breakfast It's a million niggas like me Red strings in they Nike's Some official, some softer than Scott's tissue That's life B Deal with it Carry the steel with it If you hard peel with it One dome shot if you real with it I'm from Compton son Aim at a target and I will hit it Cocaine Game Put red sauce on ya Bills fitted See me in the streets I'm probably holdin' some Beverly Hills Spending money like I'm Oprah's son That's why the bitches feel me And they baby daddy's wanna kill me Run up on the Range Fucking with Game He gon bang Picture ya bleedin' All stretched out Barely breathin' Huffin' and wheezin' As the Range Rover tires screechin' I've been Coached by the OGs Chased by the police You ain't never seen a nigga Hit a fence like me Catch me If you can Leonardo DiCaprio They say I'm not a real blood The hood is backin' me though Niggas like Deebo, White Boy, Fog and Knot Ask Big Dan if young Game Jogged the block Hog the rock Sell it if it's hard or not Before they call the cops I rip apart the block I'm in the bathroom flushing Out the window, Hit the back gate Tomorrow guess what? I'm at the same corner hustlin I done sold weed, sold X, sold crack Never been snitched on Cause I ain't ever ran with no rats Never left ma grandma house Without loading both straps Never fumbled runnin' like Barry Sanders Know that I vow to hustle til there's no more crack Indirectly, got a young nigga to fold those packs The black Jim Hoffa Lemme introduce you to the show stopper Mr. Lamborghini driver, low-Pro copper He is I and I am he We are one like the moon and the sun OG I been around Kid hustlin With grown men around Seen homies get shot And watch bodies spin around Ain't hardly from Marcy But I gotta respect it Got niggas there Chi town And Mo-Town I'm well-connected Get your body dropped off Any town I please Let the trap snap on the rat You'll die eating cheese Get on your knees Pray for Harry-O, Kenneth Supreme I pledge allegiance to the hustlers Keep livin' ya dream What? Ayo Skee man, shit is too easy Ya know what I'm sayin? We put out mixtapes when the fuck we feel like it Not when you want it, when the fuck we feel like it And I'm the CEO of mothafuckin' Blackwall Street Records, Blackwall Street Enterprises, Blackwall Street Porno's, Blackwall Street toilet tissue, Blackwall Street mothafuckin' car detailin', Blackwall Street car wash nigga, Blackwall Street socks, shoes, mothafuckin' ovens, kitchen appliances, I'm Blackwall Street's President, CEO, fuckin'... fuck it!
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