歌詞

Damn, is y'all ready to go up in here? Alright, pull the black mask down We 'bout to rush the door Ah shit, hide your jewelry I told y'all we was coming Yo everybody watch out, word up Get it up, huh The ice on ya wrist player, pick it up, huh My killers in the cut coast, stick 'em up, huh Ladies grab your shirts and lift 'em up, huh Lemme see your ass baby, back it up, huh My soldiers on the front line actin' up, huh Lemme see your guns, what? Throw 'em up, huh Lemme see your guns, what? Throw 'em up, huh Lemme see your guns, what? Throw 'em up, huh Yo Sticky Fingaz, word out I told y'all niggas, yo come on Hennesied up, play the cut, lightin' it up Rag on my head, eyes lookin' half way dead Brought my thugs to the club, straight off the street I'm iceburg to my feet about a third of the week Relax baby, don't spaz 'cause he touched your ass I ain't say shit when your friend touched my dick I see Brooklyn schemin', we all in the spot But that's hip hop, we rap niggas from off the block Is it me or is it gettin' hot in here? I think somebody 'bout to get shot in here The nine mil' guaranteed to clear the spot in here And we ain't get searched kid, we got glocks in here Somebody bring me to the hoe suckin' cocks in here I think they trying to shut it down, I seen cops in here I'm the hottest shit Universal got this year And all my niggaz rockin' rocks in here, come on Get it up, huh The ice on ya wrist player, pick it up, huh My killers in the cut coast, stick 'em up, huh Ladies grab your shirts and lift 'em up, huh Lemme see your ass, baby, back it up, huh My soldiers on the front line actin' up, huh Lemme see your guns, what? Throw 'em up, huh Lemme see your guns, what? Throw 'em up, huh Lemme see your guns, what? Throw 'em up, huh Black Trash, yo kick that old real shit That Queens shit nigga Fire marshall said it's too packed, nigga fuck the law And the guest list, niggas 'bout to rush the door Got cats online in ties and suits We come through VIP and button flies and boots Everybody gettin' comped, I ain't paying no admission Sticky Fingaz, I can't even pay attention Love the freaks that tweek and be liftin' it up Love the freaks that creep and be givin' it up I got twelve inches, I'm well hung Nine on my dick and three on my tongue My manager, the bitch name is Helen Wate Need a free show? Nigga go to hell and wait And if God only helped those that help themselves When I see somethin', I want 'em, I help myself So unless you and me come to a understanding You gonna be under, and I'ma be standin' Get it up, huh The ice on ya wrist player, pick it up, huh My killers in the cut coast, stick 'em up, huh Ladies grab your shirts and lift 'em up, huh Lemme see your ass, baby, back it up, huh My soldiers on the front line actin' up, huh Lemme see your guns, what? Throw 'em up, huh Lemme see your guns, what? Throw 'em up, huh Lemme see your guns, what? Throw 'em up, huh Word up, we takin' all y'all money We takin' all y'all bitches, what y'all thought it was? I'm so hot to death, I'll probably get shot to death Fuck who the cops arrest my killers is rough Shoot up the club like Puff, niggas'll duck Chains tucked, Timbs get scuffed I pull a four-four from out of the seat Up out it and beat, picture me not ridin' with heat Jump out of the Jeep, clear a nigga out of the street Nobody can creep thirty deep nigga, I'm out of your reach Ain't nothing but killers posted next to me I'm prejudice, I hate every color except for green In the club, that's were my niggas' jewelry shop When the hammer cock, we don't care who we box So why you come to the club, what you livin' it up? Why you fuckin' with that chick and was she givin' it up? Why you even cop jewels, what you can't get stuck? Why you never say when, you ain't had enough? Get it up, huh The ice on ya wrist player pick it up, huh (Nigga scheming on my chain son) (What?) (I don't know god) (Damn you don't know son?) (Yo son look man niggaz walking over there son, yo what up son?) (You know what the fuck this is, nigga?) (Give me that chain the fuck you thinking?) (Oh shit!) C'mon Let's go Get it up
Writer(s): George Spivey, Kirk Jones Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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