| Call the doctor up, the jewels sick
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| Front get confronted, the tools grip
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| My gun stay long like a pool stick
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| I don’t need it, I could kill em with a toothpick
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| Like a bad hand, no prob. |
| folding em
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| Make em a golf course, 18 holes in em
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| Like a Jamaican shirt, 28 grams I could make it work
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| Straight to work, like amber stay alert
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| 'Fore I creep up behind you
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| Won’t see me coming like the swine flu, huh… times two
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| Remind you I’m way way worse
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| Like the FK, AK, trey 8 first
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| I tell mami «ohh display your purse»
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| Treat my dick like a sprite obey your thirst
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| Walk in the weed spot, Louie shirt, g-shock
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| Lennox Ave to d-block, we hot… oowww
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| My mom had 3 strokes, fell hard
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| No sympathys, flowers, get well cards
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| All swell god, no lost love Ak
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| She driving again, put her in soft spot
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| Gotta thank Tito Poppin, off top
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| Got her medicine, vicodins, cough drop
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| Now I’m back out, niggas jaw drop
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| Girls dras drop, glass say fuck em all ock
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| Hit em hard rocks, right in they soft spot
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| January 2nd until the ball drop
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| I don’t lobby for more props, I’m something that ya’ll not
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| Porsche hot, out in the ball park
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| The faucet leaking, I don’t play with leaks
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| Song get played early, break his teeth
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| I’m a fuck the nigga up that made this beat
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| Two piece, dope fiend, straight to sleep
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| I’m a keep it a hundred, these niggas don’t want it
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| Either a head shot or a bullet to the stomach
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| If you live, you’ll never fully recover from it
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| If you die, we gon pop bottles 'til we vomit
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| And nah, we don’t wear diamonds, we roc comets
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| My money came illegally, fuck it at least I’m honest
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| Finally bout to leave all the bullshit behind u
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| So right now death is the only thing I can promise
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| 40's and the lamas, we hitting everything except the shorties in pajamas
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| Shooting in the Miami heat, like Chalmers
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| Slugs make you feel like you rocking leather bombers
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| Somebody call the coroners, I’m a hustler did numbers in the drought
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| You at your moms crib for the summer on the couch
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| A lot of niggas suck, nothing to figure out
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| They put themselves in the hole, want you to dig em out |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Talk About It, artist - Cam'Ron. Album song 1st Of The Month: Box Set, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп