Lyrics Renegades - Solomon Childs

Renegades

Invasion… like a TJ Hooker or some shit
We back again, nigga, shit.
see us nigga
Staten Island, you see us nigga
B-Town… Killa Hill, Staple Town, Jungle Nilz
Now Born.
check it…
Renegade… g-g-g-gat, g-g-g-gat, g-g-g-gat
Renegade… g-g-g-gat, g-g-g-gat, g-g-g-gat
Renegade… g-g-g-gat, g-g-g-gat, g-g-g-gat
Nah… they don’t want problems…
I stay sharp, lucky, whips and kicks
I stay sharp, lucky, whips and chicks
DrugDealer.com, NineMillimeter.com
KidnapYourKids.com
Solomon Childs, the black rose
Potent, product, with bank rolls
Boulevard street Godfather, done rows
Illegal money like Pete Rose
Tongue kissing project centerfolds
Your little bitch love when the kid flows
Who want it?
Who wanna ride for the Super Bowl
Grand imperial, after this year, I’mma have the hood ready to ride with me
Seriously, you better wanna ride with me
I’m beginning to think dudes think I’m a gimmick
Run through 'em like Boston in the pennant
Burn like gasoline through your fitted
Rock mine low, dickies and red
I cut a real rasta’s dred
You looking at your centerfolds, center piece
Mwah, to the death of your chief
Tales of the mark 'em home, cook coke game regime
He got clientele back in the hood like L.T.
and Mitch Green
Deal 'em with cake like porno, robberies on police photos
Starting to get hated, that’s the way I love it
You gon' sleep with a dead hundred, rosery beeds and blunted
You ain’t confident with yourself, so how could you want it?
Judgment day, torture, game day
I peel out your calf with a machet'
Hip hop style of Russian roulette
Super heavy back, intense like a Mexican bullets at
Whether the streets or jail, you gon' witness the metal clap
20th century dragon’s lair, black hood, black blazer
Black laser, using potatos for salads
To bust the heads of you juicy tomatoes
Don’t sway the way I sway, cuz majority bids
Sing in front of a crowd like Eric Benett
Smell yourself, you fly as the ground, be
But you dead, nigga, you already dead, nigga
Rough like alligator, you can see a real killer within
Look alive muthafucka or get buried alive, muthafucka
Master beats, this is music for dudes who wanna up stound
Tough guy shit, acting like the hammers ain’t around
Born in New York City, with that East Coast attitude, muthafucka