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U Told Me

[Sheek]

Now you can quote me on this

I bust my gun

Also quote me on this

I handle my biz

I knew it was my house when Run was sayin it was his

I ain't lying

Ain't no cords or no steam in this iron

But it is a permanent press

Have these 38 shells spray starch your chest

Leave you stiff

Coroners make ashes of you

In rap I'm like God nigga forever above you

If I don't do it all I just dial my phone

And you get sprayed through your clothes like you put on cologne

If it's not violence or drugs I have nothing to spit

I be lying if I talk some spiritual shit

Like Kirk Franklin and them

Y'all just ain't me

I can't tell you about God but I can tell you about a key

And what I'll do to God's children if they jerk me

Hurt me , never , that'll be a sin

I'ma put the Bible to your head and shoot through Matthew verse 10

What

C'mon niggas

What

[Chorus: x2]

You told me you would bust your guns for me

(Yeah bust your gun dog)

You said you'd always sling your pounds

(Sling the hydro green)

Now you're away and you're all that I need

(You're all that I need baby)

But L-O-X will hold it down

(You know the LOX gonna hold it)

[Jadakiss]

I'm back in the game

I still ride the back of the train

And sit right next to Jake with a package of Caine

Niggas say he realer than me you call him a liar

I got the Audi T T the same color as fire

You just getting a name

Putting shit in the game

Stop faking

I have your do-rag looking Jamaican

Holey as the water in the front of the church

Then find you with no back plus one in your earth

I can't wait for the day you get murked

Cause I'ma throw a free party at the Tunnel and give out work

I love myself , my family , and love my son

Love my niggas and love white Air Force Ones

And besides that I'm open off the dro and the guns

And the head you could get from a hoe in the slums

Niggas always act silly till you show em the milly

Then they got the nerve to ask you why you wanna kill me

Uhh

[Chorus: x2]

[Styles]

I know it ain't right

For me to swear to God

But I swear to God that I'll murder you dog

And I know it ain't right

For me to sell dope

Rob stores but I still gotta run from the law

Twenty niggas in the clique

How all of us pour

In a three room apartment and we all on the floor

I reflect to the days I thought of busting the whip

Now I come through the scene and niggas cuffing they bitch

Feel good to see Kiss spend a buck on his wrists

Or Sheek fronting on a jet ski with a Puerto Rican chick

I don't rock no jewels

But I pops my tools

And I work my coupe to do a buck 68

P hit you in the head like a dutch to the face

Or a cup full of liquor

Come and fuck with you nigga

Cause I make drug money

Gotta take blood from me

If you wanna prove a point pull a joint shoot dummies

[Chorus: x3]

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written by JACOBS, SEAN D/DEAN, DARRIN/DEAN, KASSEEM

Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.

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