| Uh-huh, yeah, yo
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| Cash in a brief case, trying to play it smart
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| Love is a privilege and you better play your part
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| Don’t wanna leave it to the lawyers breath
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| Snap my fingers, you’ll be laying on the foyer steps
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| Wishing you were a boy again
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| Late night stand on the roof, smoke a newp
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| Reminiscing when I had the broken tooth, we were loose
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| Three different colors on the goose with the boots
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| Maryland College basketball suits
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| I drive the 525 made in '95
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| Shawn Kemps on the pedal, I’m a kamikaze
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| Right arm hang out the window while I steer left
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| Near death, slam into a deer’s chest
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| Lights out for a second, but I’m back
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| Hopped up like a karate master
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| Still I blast the shottie faster on you bastards, make you backspin
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| Come out the closet you’ve been trapped in, that’s it
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| Queens
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| Yeah, nigga you know I put the work in
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| Head shots real precise like a surgeon
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| I see your heart beating through your shirt, nervous
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| Nigga shaking in his J’s, his legs gave in
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| Wow, and I ain’t even pull the gun off my waist yet
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| This nigga done got so scared he took a shit
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| Then I swerved in some low key wheels
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| And go about my business like it never happened, chill
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| For reals, pop a couple pills
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| Cup a drink, come to think about it I feels
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| Like turning up the rap, ignorant, loud
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| Like this weed that I smoke, make a thick, yellow cloud
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| Perpetual payday, my money don’t vacay
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| I’m out seeing the world, my life is so crazy
|
| You could only imagine
|
| But you could never fathom my intelligence, I get at em
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| Oh shit, it’s real like that, right y’all?
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| Word up man, pledge allegiance man
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| I Patrick Ewing niggas, long shotties I be 'suing niggas
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| You gon' pay, face the camera ruin niggas
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| And my money, I’m collecting and I’m stepping
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| Might slap the shit out your man and take his weapon
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| Hungry and angry and I’m savagery, but still
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| More your majesty, wipe out the cool t-shirt, vacuum it
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| And I’m gon' keep you rich, so chill
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| Or you can live with them faggots and stay away from real deal abbots
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| Death is our game plan, new playing bullets
|
| Come in spray cans, write graffiti all on your vest
|
| Lester, cousin Eve sleeve all greasy
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| He the best of it, put it right there, you get a check
|
| Slang prostitution, it’s prohibition
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| When we move shit, this is what some niggas suggest
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| I suggest war, and clout the fake niggas
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| They could move out, take no chance, you never know, ya’ll
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| For real man, cause we ain’t playing no games no more, no more homies
|
| You sit around this, you sit around the best
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| With gold forks and all that, word up
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| Y’all niggas that come shine, come through come through come shine, come
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| You know what it is man, it’s automatic |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Seven Series Triplets , by - Action Bronson. Song from the album SAAAB Stories produced by Harry Fraud, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп