Apparaît dans
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Crédits
AUSFÜHRENDE KÜNSTLER:INNEN
DMX
Stimme und Gesang
JAY-Z
Stimme und Gesang
Jadakiss
Stimme und Gesang
Sheek Louch
Stimme und Gesang
Styles P
Stimme und Gesang
KOMPOSITION UND LIEDTEXT
Kasseem Dean
Songwriter:in
David Styles
Songwriter:in
Sean Jacobs
Songwriter:in
Jason Phillips
Songwriter:in
Earl Simmons
Songwriter:in
Shawn Carter
Songwriter:in
PRODUKTION UND TECHNIK
Ken "Supa Engineer" Duro
Mischtechniker:in
Adam Gazzola
Aufnahmeingenieur:in
Swizz Beatz
Produzent:in
Tony Dawsey
Mastering-Ingenieur:in
Paroles
Jay
Fuck that
This is it, right here, baby
You know what it is
Yo, I used to have bad luck, now you
Might see me in a Jag' truck
Masked up, either with a dime or a bad duck
Double-R tee with the matching bandana
.38-snub, blue steel with no hammer
And I see y'all niggas tryna glance at the 'Kiss
'Cause I walk around with
Your whole advance on my wrist
Boning your women
Drunk off Coronas and lemon
And you know I'm still writing the mean
Lighting the green I need the buggy
Even though I look right in the beam
Judge find out it's my team, he boost they bails
Niggas throw us on they album, try to boost they sales
We put our pies on the table and our eyes on a label
'Cause them rednecks up in the
Mountains'll try to slay you Call me raspy
Tell you what I want you to know
Fuck what you ask me
You probably don't want me to blow
I got a lot of horsepower so I'm able to skip
Usually a good nigga, even though I'm able to flip
You pay thirty for the 'Kiss (Uh-huh)
A hundred for The LOX (Yeah)
And if we cool, then I write a hook for a drop
Whatever's in the bank is my bet, a Z-bull's my pet
And you can bet he'll get the legs and the neck
(Uh-huh, yeah, ayo)
Yo, when my gun bust
Send niggas to the fish like Swanson
New York's youngest Bumpy Johnson
I put fear in y'all heads
Sheek Louch, type of nigga gasoline y'all beds
And that's warning
If you all alive in the morning, that's fine
Now, I suggest you hit the block and
Get what's rightfully mine
I want PC, see me? Tuck in your chains
I got niggas my pop's age
That lifestyle ain't changed
It's like, wake up, move a brick, half of it slow
Make car money, check with Sheek
Go fuck with a ho (Ha)
I rock a waist-length mink
Durag under my fitted (Style on these niggas)
And I don't even want waves
Timbs be halfway new (Huh?)
That's Sheek in the dress-up club cause
I don't fuck with shoes
And for my nigga's life
I swear to the Bible, let it be told
I put thirty in your head
All in the same hole
'Cause we got the same goal
And you try and tamper with mine?
Don't make me motherfuckin' leave
You with some shit in your spine
Fuck with me, you be a "Was nigga", "Nigga was dope"
Nigga was gettin' money 'fore
I extorted your coke
'Ju crazy? (Haha)
Ayo, catch me with a .38, box of shells
In a '98 Lincoln, eatin' pasta shells
Order to go, always got a box of Ls
Blow, stay on the low
Get a Heine' and swig
I'm Pinero, so I hate a snake, rat, or a pig
I pop shit 'cause I'm the second best
The first was B.I.G
Y'all niggas is sonned out
Let me speak to your father
'Cause I like to play chess and I swing the revolver
If I don't like a nigga
I don't even be bothered
I spit, I'm just a crooked nigga going legit
You hold your nine if you
Holding a brick, common sense
Fed' drama, you hit the Bahamas, get bent
L-O-X get respect like Sonny from Bronx Tale
Us and DMX, the Ruff Ryder cartel
Thirsty to live, oh, y'all niggas eager to die?
I tell all my niggas ride
You won't leave with a dime
Motherfucker
Yeah, yeah, I'm a monster
I sleep whole winters
Wake up and spit summers
Ghetto nigga, putting up
Will Smith numbers (Ugh)
Surrounded by Sixes and Hummers
Bitches among us
Trying not to let this bullshit become us
It started from hunger 'til it all went insane
Now, bitches notice the chains
Now that I hit my number
The chickens I twisted (Ugh)
See the digits unlisted (Yeah)
The beeper done changed
Your dead, bitch, the reaper done came
I suggest niggas stop speaking my name
'Cause trust me, y'all could
Still feel the heat in the rain
I keep creepin', streets
Keep watchin', I keep poppin'
Niggas is hotheads and
The bullets is heat-seeking
Jay flow for pesos, chase hoes, not
I just circle 'round the block in a drop
Tell 'em jump through the top (Uh-huh)
Where the sunroof used to be
I could see y'all not used to me
Nigga, flows like none other (Ugh)
I'm the meanest, toughest
Don Dada to gun-butt ya
You the type to bust a lot of shots
And none touch you (Fuck)
I'm the type that get excited
When the gun touch ya, motherfuckers (Ugh)
Y'all niggas 'bout to witness a dynasty like no other
(Uh-huh-uh-huh-uh)
(Grrrr)
I'm headed nowhere fast
Running in place (Ugh), gun in my waist
Niggas wanted a taste
But wouldn't come to my face (Ugh)
So what that mean?
You cats is playin' games again
So now what I do?
Start naming names again (What?)
All you motherfuckers know that
I speak from the heart (Ugh)
Play like you don't know, L-O-X is gon' bark
We can take it there, but to
Make it fair, get some more niggas
Styles, Sheek, Jay, we comin' with
Like four niggas (Aight?)
Y'all niggas best to stop playin'
It'll be the ones you forgotten about
That'll get you shot in your mouth
(Argh, argh) Got my dogs covered (Ugh)
Plus it's all gravy, like chicken
When it's smothered (What?)
It's dark and I love it (Ugh)
Get him, boy, let him loose (Come on)
Want it with the dog or the gun?
Let him choose (Come on)
Writer(s): Sean Jacobs, David Styles, Kasseem Dean, Shawn C. Carter, Earl Simmons, Jason Phillips
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