Peter Luger (feat. Bond)

Shadow pocket hit the 718, like 510 and fill in your tape Time to rap hella great, drives to keep Sway and take away Or we all start to hallucinate I rap long enough to dig a whole in your crates Copping big button drugs, you got a dub and shake Them the breaks, dodge city got my go-go dub plate Niggas like, "Fuck Billy, he still owe me from '98" Oh, man you fitting to menestrate, take this roach Now we straight, youngin, you know mom still eying my cape I just known rocket will late, up top got me out of shape But I can go back to squatting with weight, put race in jakes Sorry, slang blurry, I mean the bowl but honestly I'd rather do shows with the high and dro, watch the Barry White pro Sipping ice-cold, nice with milkshake flows, the brain freeze MCs Kids nasty reminiscing over golden shower Talk smooth enough to move a kilo or flower Time Square rush hour, big gun, little men, and cowards Paid back, spit mat coming for hours, the Charles Bronson conscience Hold up, I know you ain't still talking that nonsense Twigs for dinner NY is full of beef now, Africa don't have sacred cows I'm in the big chair like Mao, 69 stolen rollies About to hate you now, it's a lot of mumble heads talking about Pac And flunk niggas trying to take five shots Got the vest to match the Glock, couple rounds how you ran old block You go there with them undercover cops Same one you need just to go to the spot No wonder you say you hot Backwoods, I'll be with the trees, negro, please I got six degrees, separation between me and these MCs Mostly with Dennis bottle, Baldwin novel, chilling in the hovel The words ring hollow, copied and borrowed They'll be better tomorrow, but right now, darkness reigns I got nothing to lose but your chains, affiliated with ice in my veins Frying pan to the flames, fuck jacking beats, we need planes Destination can be main, hard with the ferry John Brown things, they hang him in the rain Babylon use they brain, cotton or cocaine, a rose by any other name 007, what I tell you? Right now, I got this, all day Fully automatics for your cabbage, Peter Luger It's what's for dinner, medium rare black ninjas Only corpses and winners, let's eat