| From the tone of the voice, it’s moist and choice
|
| A special, he shoot 'em in the face with them boy
|
| Yo, from all them niggas off of Hoy Street, came this
|
| Large nigga taking over parole
|
| Crib all stretched out, bulletproof saunas
|
| Furry minks, touching the ground, she slaughtered six shrinks
|
| One of the primetime kings, all of the young niggas
|
| Who lived it, will sit in the box and dream
|
| He coppin' lots of things, he even got rasta connects
|
| Now, he bling, if lord love me, he’ll throw it up, all lovely
|
| Open the shirt, all ugly
|
| He kept the Purple Tape, hug me
|
| Tell that nigga Chef, when that nigga get on, plug me
|
| There it go, Barnaby Jones and Mugsy
|
| Two wicked cops, try’nna get their names on the come up
|
| Shit, do not fuck with me, I won’t have it
|
| If them niggas try to pull up, what’s up, get me |