| Lyrics: | *sounds of the street, wu-tang st. ide's commercial is in the background*
(this is a best guess
based on what's heard underneath rae's conversation)
[ghostface] who's the wallabe kid, dress
down, could never be son
Ricochet daily hit the deli for a cold one
May i be blessed yes? my
mic is like a laser beam
That blow between the bushes, st. ide's and i the king of
things
[cappadon] crack the bottle of the st. ide's, sippin it's real
And thrillin will i,
drink it and we only
Too be dope, you can't die, them peoples do lie
And if the street don't
know, you're full of slang cane pain
[rza] it was hot, on the spot, so i jetted up the
block
I said, ock, i'm hot, let's go sit on the bay by the docks
Of the black, i'm fully
packed, always got my trojan
Heads got bottles open, fill my cup till
flowin
*conversation*
All that good shit
Yeah
Knowhati'msayin, you come in, you
come in lookin flavorful
Word
Youknowhatimean? you the whole shit of the whole night
But
i've seen it though, knowhati'msayin? like i seen it
You know, my g is too futuristic for that
shit, knowhati'msayin?
Word, did you try to get a little swerve kid on?
Tried to man,
youknowhati'msayin, but she was come pullin off
Word
Word?
Just come pullin off her as
her drawers
Worrrd
Fuck that bitch though, knowhati'msayin? shoulda, on the real
Yo yo
tonight feel like a nigga gonna get burnt
Yeah yeah
It's like you hear something tomorrow
right
Some like yo, blahzay blahe
It's the wind, i'm tellin you
Yeah yeah word
It's
the air, i can feel it
It feel hot, it feel feel hot at night and shit like
The sun ain't
even out
Yo the sun don't shine nobody, knowhati'msay |
