| Lyrics: | Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
Just got off the jack with my son thats up north
Tellin me he's comin
home, and how he's gettin off
'Cuz his game was weak, killed two months, he's back in the
streets
With new plans, to expand, to jerk his mans man
We had the ultimate stick up, drop,
on the brick pick up
But yo he can't, 'cuz he's still locked up
Jump back on the horn 'cuz
his vibe was strong
Contacted the kid and told him lets be gone
I talked to Poet first, yo
son, I got a mish-shon
Grab the ammunnish-shon, pump up your pythons
I know a spot where
niggas gettin it, and we can flip on
Son they frustrate me, 'cuz these niggas pump with no
heat
They play the night time sweet, like they can't get beat
I got their address, to where
they rest and stash their shit
Yo, I peeped it out how we can creep, yo yo yo
These niggas
stay sleep
Makin sales, smokin out, and they all get ?geeked?
Lets catch 'em zoning, brain
under, high and headed home and
When they least expect it, lets put the gat to his dome
He
stuck the key in the door, we ??? four four
We pushed our way in, we wasnt playin
Ready to
spray 'em, tied him down to the A.M.
Now we layin, for a beamer, and some bitch named
Fatima
Chorus: Prince AD
Communicate for the cake, polly for weight outta
state
Down on digits on the Isle with son we can't be late
We got moves to make, flood the
whole New York state
Time to skate to other lands to put food on our plate
Communicate for
the cake, polly for weight outta state
Down on digits on the Isle with son we can't be
late
We got moves to make, flood the whole New York state
Time to skate to other lands to
put food on our plate
Now we travel with the ?Crills Rock?
P, Noyd, Onsl |
