| We came to get busy
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| We ain’t come to talk
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| Welcome to the handgun, welcome to the hawk
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| This that grimey shit you supposed to hear in New York
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| For niggas gettin' killed or gettin' years from the court
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| We came to get busy
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| We ain’t come to talk
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| Welcome to the handgun, welcome to the hawk
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| This that grimey shit you supposed to hear in New York
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| For niggas gettin' killed or gettin' years from the court
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| Came to get busy, Styles done made him spin, now he dizzy
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| Face-Off, niggas gotta ask who is he?
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| I be in the Benz, high as fuck, playin' Biggie
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| Pretty bitch, half a brick of yay by her titties
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| Egg full of dope in her pussy hole
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| Cops gotta kill me, can’t book me though 'cause I ain’t doin' time
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| Got beef with them niggas, I bet you I get 'em lined up
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| Let it buck and I bet you it’s in his spine, my gun
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| Death Row Records, I bet you I get 'em signed
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| Not a major deal, but the major steel
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| I kill your man, then ask you how it made you feel
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| Shove the blade in you, yeah, the rage is real
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| Look at me now, doin' what the fuck I’m supposed to do
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| Me shinin', they sucka niggas emotional
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| I’m already wavy, just think what the pressure do
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| Tried to make a quick meal, call it a Lunchable
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| Hatin' in my comments is somethin' a punk’ll do
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| Them emojis and punctuals’ll gon' leave you discoverable
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| I’m out here chillin' on them back blocks killin' where they crack rock dealin',
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| shit, the trap my buildin'
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| Lames gettin' money, start shittin' on niggas
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| Not me, If I’m on, I got positions for niggas
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| As soon as I got the plug, I shock the shit outta niggas
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| Kept shit bottled in then blew the lid off them niggas
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| We came to get busy
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| We ain’t come to talk
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| Welcome to the handgun, welcome to the hawk
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| This that grimey shit you supposed to hear in New York
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| For niggas gettin' killed or gettin' years from the court
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| We came to get busy
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| We ain’t come to talk
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| Welcome to the handgun, welcome to the hawk
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| This that grimey shit you supposed to hear in New York
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| For niggas gettin' killed or gettin' years from the court
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| Hey yo, Snyp gotta bounce like he runnin' from one-time
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| Bars, gyms, start sharp, cut through your frontline
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| Hustled my whole life, went to jail for a gun crime
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| On the grind, robbed twenty niggas with one nine
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| Smokin' like a chimney while I’m listening to Biggie
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| We livin' off experience, my niggas run the city
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| If we ain’t come to talk, shit, we came get busy
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| And get the guts, meanin' run through it 'til it’s empty
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| That’s D-Block style, two hammers and a hawk
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| No pork, but I eat these rap niggas with a fork
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| Before I say my Grace, shit, I’m blowin' out your face
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| Then I’m runnin' in your safe, we the hardest in the state
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| Started with the work but I had to go cop the baggies
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| Bricks are in Texas they workin' out like the Aggies
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| Gave 'em a slice on First Av' like patsies
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| Uncle in the kitchen, cookin' up, knockin' Patti LaBelle
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| I could sell if a nigga gotta get it
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| These in the store, I threw the dubs in my fitted
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| Explicit, my shit is rated R
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| Couple shots at your chest, I’m not tryna break your heart
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| I shake the narcs
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| A quiet spot, paint a picture for 'em like Basquiat
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| Feel like Biggie sippin' on private stock,
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| We came to get busy
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| We ain’t come to talk
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| Welcome to the handgun, welcome to the hawk
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| This that grimey shit you supposed to hear in New York
|
| For niggas gettin' killed or gettin' years from the court
|
| We came to get busy
|
| We ain’t come to talk
|
| Welcome to the handgun, welcome to the hawk
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| This that grimey shit you supposed to hear in New York
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| For niggas gettin' killed or gettin' years from the court
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| Yeah! |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Welcome To NY , by - Styles P. Song from the album A Wise Guy and a Wise Guy, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп