Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Armored Truck , by - Masta Killa. Release date: 11.05.2015
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Armored Truck |
| Comin' to get this money, money |
| Knock, Knock nigga |
| Aiyo, aiyo |
| I be where the dough at and where the dough at, a ho at |
| I grind for real, y’all niggas know that |
| Cause slow money’s better than no money |
| I keep a hustle, strong-arm block muscle |
| Hand me those things, what’s poppin' my nigga? |
| Po-po watching again |
| Put the heat and the work in the stash, Fatty got us |
| I wish somebody would try to rob us |
| Them bootleg CDs, two for five dollars |
| Advances, leather |
| I’m gettin' my dick sucked by belly-dancers |
| All hood, yeah, pop got the gambling spot back |
| Roll up a wood, smoke berries, my team 'bout paper |
| At first you don’t succeed, strive again |
| That Gin and Grapefruit, rockable blend it’s grown B. I |
| Brownsville, all the way to Portland, you know us |
| The ice don’t melt but it felt like you know us |
| Yeah, you go under the ground |
| If you didn’t know me then Pa, you knowing me now |
| I been poppin' those and them ho’s been knocking those |
| Shows outta state, West bubble fuck |
| With big hummer trucks, gangsta life, live big |
| That’s my word to Big, I send shots to your ribs |
| See if you can spot the red beam |
| I’m parked right in front of the spot inside a red Beam', nigga |
| (Yeah, yeah, we’ll pass this off) |
| Yeah we got this pick up |
| After we pick this up everything gon' be good |
| (Watch yaself) |
| Yo watch those two cats over there |
| They funny facin' right now, they funny facin' |
| (I got that) |
| I started out workin' a ho, moved up to a runner |
| Hustled for material wealth, put bullet-proof tires on the Hummer |
| Straight to ya gate I deliver, flow like the Kwantung River |
| Murdered for a few tails of silver |
| Code: Red, swingin' on ya head, it’s all actual, the murder capital |
| Group emcee killers, masters, pros and villains |
| Mic snatchers, dark like a hatchet |
| Flash ya ratchet, whether steel or plastic |
| Check the regiment |
| Peace to Almighty Infinite from the Desert |
| What’s the science Wu-alliance? |
| On the Ave, I heard son got stabbed up at the party |
| Never, the God too clever |
| He seen it comin', they thought he was slippin' |
| 'cuz he’s rockin' a drunken', hand on his gun and |
| Eyes red ready to dead whatever movin' |
| Against the Armoured Truck, people that he moved wit' |
| Just make sure my money’s right, how I move |
| (Yo the money’s right) |
| The money there look easy, smooth and deadly |
| At the Plaza, high with her friends |
| She from Brazil and she likes men with Indian skin |
| How, the fuck are rap niggas goin' to trial? |
| Was that easy like burnin' an Owl or turnin' a dial |
| The body you do’s, we body you dudes |
| We robbin' you, dealin' death and you outta ya shoes |
| Who’s on first, now who’s on second? |
| I’m on third, I’m not playin', them Ninas got 'em all prayin' |
| God please save me, them Brooklyn niggas, they all crazy |
| Both eyes hazy, now who the fuck want it? |
| We gamblin' grands, me and my mans |
| We got the block on watch for them D’s in them vans |
| Now that’s my word, that’s my word |
| Twenty a gram, fuck that, thirty a bird |
| Flip somethin', respect the juks |
| This here’s supposed to happen |
| Now who the fuck wanna start rappin'? |
| Then start rappin' |
| Let’s get this money |
| Divide it by the group |
| Divide by life niggas |
| On the grind, block for block |
| Whatever, whatever |
| Fort Knox, Knock, Knock, nigga |
| Timbo King, my nigga Dev One on the track |
| Definite on the Internet |
| Definitely, yeah, yeah |
| Bring it back. |