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Crédits

AUSFÜHRENDE KÜNSTLER:INNEN
DMX
DMX
Stimme und Gesang
JAY-Z
JAY-Z
Stimme und Gesang
Jadakiss
Jadakiss
Stimme und Gesang
Sheek Louch
Sheek Louch
Stimme und Gesang
Styles P
Styles P
Stimme und Gesang
KOMPOSITION UND LIEDTEXT
Kasseem Dean
Kasseem Dean
Songwriter:in
David Styles
David Styles
Songwriter:in
Sean Jacobs
Sean Jacobs
Songwriter:in
Jason Phillips
Jason Phillips
Songwriter:in
Earl Simmons
Earl Simmons
Songwriter:in
Shawn Carter
Shawn Carter
Songwriter:in
PRODUKTION UND TECHNIK
Ken "Supa Engineer" Duro
Ken "Supa Engineer" Duro
Mischtechniker:in
Adam Gazzola
Adam Gazzola
Aufnahmeingenieur:in
Swizz Beatz
Swizz Beatz
Produzent:in
Tony Dawsey
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 Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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