| Double platinum never; |
| still on the grind though
|
| Playin my position, watchin behind though
|
| D-Block'd out, must I remind yo
|
| Benjamins walk with me, two guns y’all can see
|
| Money pile, wild out, nigga who want what
|
| Every year it’s somethin new for you to shake your butt
|
| Get on yo' strut, you feelin me soldier?
|
| Ten hun (ten hut) ten years strong, the record is long
|
| Coulda been a lil' richer if I rocked a thong
|
| Anyway; |
| the Coupe is gray
|
| Sheek startin to get hot in the hood like the month of May
|
| My dog tags tangle, white tee on
|
| Paul Wall bottoms, big Jacob bangle
|
| One dutch of evil and piney
|
| Matter fact, gimme some 'gnac and I’mma chase that with a Heine'
|
| And make sure you pour some for my thugs behind me (yeah)
|
| Hustle 'til the sun up (run up)
|
| Keep comin 'til you come up (run up)
|
| E’rybody keep your gun up (run up, run up, run up, run up, run up)
|
| Run up you gon' die like the beeper call
|
| Dawg this is Styles, I ain’t Nas but I «Ether» y’all
|
| You should hide when you see that ride creep along
|
| Cause it’s on when the doors open — shut his lights out
|
| He got his mans, but I’m fuckin get 'em all coffins
|
| Lil' niggas is now mine they swallow the barrel find it
|
| Bet that’ll open 'em up (I bet)
|
| And they all act tough, 'til you pokin 'em up
|
| Nigga — run up like you came for a marathon
|
| Body’s in the suitcase, head’s in the carry-on (ha ha)
|
| You food to a real nigga, rude with the steel nigga
|
| Give a fuck; |
| you shoulda chilled nigga (you shoulda chilled)
|
| All I know is puttin in work
|
| Get the new M-5, nigga put in the work
|
| Crack a vanilla dutch, nigga put in the earth
|
| Run up I keep the gun up, get put in the earth — what?
|
| M-6 revvin, all black on the cell phone
|
| And all that like I’m talkin to Devon (Knight Rider)
|
| Shorty wanna hang out of the car (uh-huh)
|
| Yellin out money ain’t a thang, holdin up a mayonnaise jar
|
| Of that stick-ickalous, ridiculous
|
| Comin down Harlem, foggin up the whole St. Nickalous (yeah)
|
| Red monkies on them pretty things
|
| Wipin off ash, showin Scado my Diddy things
|
| Pay attention (yeah) gon' miss if I squench in
|
| Just us bein there is causin tension
|
| No beef, no wreath nece', it get real messy
|
| Pull a rifle on you boys like Uncle Jesse
|
| I’m Sheek baby girl, one third of the LOX
|
| Put you in the mink and out of the fox
|
| Added a Honda into the box
|
| Earring holes is stretched from the size of the rocks
|
| Let’s go |