| Ayo, don’t try me, the Cartiers came out in '90
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| Find me in the cocaine spot lookin' icy (Ah)
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| Connects know me on the first name basis
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| I’m lookin' tasteless, Chanel off the runway, you on the waiting list
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| Patience, hand-in-handin' on the avenue
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| The almighty, I had my lil' niggas clap at you (Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom,
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| boom)
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| These niggas not impressive at all, I barely noticed them
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| Your bricks cheaper 'cause you put too much soda in 'em
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| They had me shackled all the way to CC in Youngstown
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| Fast forward, I got the Audemar, be bustdown
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| Your shit bored, I’m goin' on the fifth floor (Skrt)
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| Nigga found a vein in his thighs and started snortin'
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| Wake up every mornin', thank the Lord, thank the Lord
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| Fuck breakfast, get the soda in the mayo jar (In the mayo jar)
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| Shooter got yayo all in his face (Got it all over his face)
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| (It's fuck these niggas, Lord)
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| All I gotta do is say the word (All I gotta do is say the word)
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| (Brr, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, I’m the fuckin' king of New York,
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| nigga, brr, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom,
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| boom, boom, boom, boom)
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| Shooter got yayo all in his face (All over his face)
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| (Give a fuck about none of these niggas)
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| All I gotta do is say the word (All I gotta do is say the word)
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| (Doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, rest in peace ChineGun Black,
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| brr, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot)
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| Ayo, peace to all my lifers in courtrooms like Tyson (Ah)
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| Fightin', tryna get their time back, I hope they righteous
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| Niggas kiss the ring daily, my throne ain’t tampered
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| Four and a baby, I stashed the MAC by the Pampers
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| You know I’m brazy, Balmains with the head chopped
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| The rest’ll follow, nigga died from a leg shot
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| You know the routine, Ksubis with the shoe string
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| 55'll get you two things, the K and Bruce Lee (Doot, doot, doot, doot, doot,
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| doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot)
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| Fly shit ever on the loose leaf, the coupe flee
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| Chanel Cs on the two seats, they rather unique (Skrt)
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| Ain’t no flaws in me, yo, Versace drawers on me
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| Say it raw, seems the Pyrexes keep callin' me
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| The stove Mega Man, the bricks out in Never-Neverland (Ah)
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| Vera Wang high point jam, I flipped the caravan
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| Better learn Spanish if you want your bricks cheaper
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| Pop the trunk, came back with the street sweeper (Doot, doot, doot, doot, doot)
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| Shooter got yayo all in his face (Got it all over his face)
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| All I gotta do is say the word (All I gotta do is say the word)
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| (Brr, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, brr, boom,
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| boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom,
|
| boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
|
| Shooter got yayo all in his face (All over his face)
|
| All I gotta do is say the word (All I gotta do is say the word)
|
| (Doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, brr, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot,
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| doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot)
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| Nothin' you can say can take me away from Flygod, Flygod
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| Nothin' you can do 'cause I’m stuck like glue to Flygod, Flygod
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| You best be believin' I won’t be deceivin' the Flygod, Flygod
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| Ayo, this is Westside Pootie, and y’all still broke
|
| This is Griselda
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| Griselda |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Broadway Joes , by - Westside Gunn. Song from the album Hitler Wears Hermes 7, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп