Yo! Can you feel me?
Storytelling rap Magellan I ain't telling
Them niggas ran in the spot for selling
Word up, pushed up, man got mushed up
Seen him at a rap show acting like fat cat though
Glasses gold, shining like a real big boy
This nigga had mega ice on Chips Ahoy!
Cats surrounded, this political brown kid
All out the wind yo, my man walked in
Pulling mints out son had mad clientele
Order me Cristal twice Kion, chill!
Watch them niggas, a-yo that clique's from outta state
They bubble weight in Far Rockaway with Blake Carrington
You know the kid with the most dough getters
And terrors on fat shit clique they rock Lo sweaters
That's my man, that's my man too
Call him up on the strength of the Wu
And watch me gain duke
Grab the cell, I got a heist to pull off well
At the end of the week, I'm buying you a L
Lexus nigga, I ain't talking bout Hancock
No time for weed plus no time to get locked
That night, up in the staircase
Cousin had me laced out, skeed all outta my face
We gon' get dat crunchy chump for all of his lump
Don't try to front, you was sweating this Hilfidiger
Guess who walked in having it, his man from Farragut
Confront him with the Ruger on his back, walk in black
Where's your man, where's the sky blue Land at?
Stop playing Wu in the back, smacked him wit the gat
(Yo, money said he be here in fifteen!)
He's not lying, wait for the Millenia green to pull up
He got the Donna Karan shit on, two rings
Six carats a piece plus the chain swings
Like anchors on ships flooded with all diamond chips
Back pockets: two clips - four-fifths wit rubber grips
Laying, two bottles of brass I was slaying
Meditating, red dot be waiting for my payment
Heard the key in the lock, cocked the Glock
Turn the lights out, dip behind the couch
Kion, gag his mouth
Infra-red at his head when he entered
Butter soft Perry Ellis leather with Dorinda
A friend of, Kion's wife, Kenya, the bitch larger than life
Yo, shorty be fucking mad Columbian niggas
Fuck it, get on the floor meet the black Lex Luthor
Strip fast, the bitch had on Claiborne drawers
Yo Rae I'm about to scrape her, chill Ghost
Thought for a second, turned around
Threw the nine in his meatloaf
Yo, where's the cash and the stash that's mixed?
I don't know!
Shot his hand, he started screaming like a bitch!
Songwriters
COREY WOODS, ROBERT F. DIGGSPublished by
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, MEMORY LANE MUSIC GROUP Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.