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(feat. Cool Whip, Havoc, Tragedy, Raekwon, Freddie Foxxx) |
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[Chorus] |
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One time, one time, one time |
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Styles kinda different but let's be specific [x2] |
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[Funkmaster Flex] |
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This is flavor right here, 60 minutes, y'all |
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[Cool Whip] |
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You'se just wasn't ready for real, so here's the deal |
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No type remorse when I pull skill, kill you and your fuking horse |
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I'm in the midst of musical moments |
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Lyrical guns bust, Bible's you trust and body clocks turn to dust |
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Explain and slain, you turn slave, you're like Batman |
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Running to your bitch ass Batcave |
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Be aware when you witness and turn ?like Burger maids? |
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Got you swimming while you're dreaming and Cool Whip seamen |
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Headaches are like earthquakes, break you down |
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And crying out for you ladies, muthafuking crybaby |
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[Chorus] |
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[Havoc] |
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Foot up ? fitted if you got work |
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We lying in ?sooken? put you on your back, sent you on your way |
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Yo, good looking, never catching the cap, the horns |
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In your louis in Brooklyn |
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Getting ?toer? from the fo'er wit the dress stower |
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Got the 80, oh don't think ?st.? nickel want to roll up |
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Get your muthafuking shit swoll up |
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Now it's back to Queens to serve fiends |
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Making t's for enemies, my eyes on my enemies |
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Sipping Hennessey wit my mind on some crime shit |
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One time searching me but never ever find shit |
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It's the everyday, get the loot then breeze |
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Still my goal is to leave out of state, push keys |
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[Tragedy] |
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The Queen's nation, representation, I represent |
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Bulletproof, 3 and a quarter, chrome rims and tint |
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Forever bent off the hen demon, niggaz is scheming |
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My crews mega wit more gunplay then Sega |
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Pick up the celleur, call Capone-N-Noreaga |
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The nickel plated auto when I rip for dolo |
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Fuk one time, I'm bucking back at the poo-poo |
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Mr Dany got me acting like that |
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Squeeze macs outta state, ?sacs? one in your tracks |
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I'm addicted to the CREAM, I need cheese and stacks |
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So I'm a die trying wit AK's and Macs |
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[Chorus] |
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[Raekwon] |
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Yo, yea, yea, word up kid, word up, check it, check it, yo |
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It's the key money, time to get the stacks and maintain |
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Analyze papes, staying drape wit heavy chains |
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The Clan has built, pouring armaretta's in milk |
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Rap skin kilt flex nothing but fly silk |
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For real, Shaolin, house of whylin', house medallion |
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Peace to cats profiling on the island |
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Walk the view, play the view, cash in my crew |
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If I feel shyst, watch the ice turn blue |
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But for now, milk the cow wit the know how |
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Chef be on the low down, sidewalk chalk wit the White Owls |
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He, yo, niggaz who bless cassettes |
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Peace my niggaz, one love to Funkmaster Flex |
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[Freddie Foxx] |
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I'm in the hole nigga knocking in sing-sing |
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Barefoot in draws from jacking yours nigga cuz you saw |
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99 pushups, I'm fiending for the mic |
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I'm starting to bug the fuk out, I'm stomping on mice |
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They feed me like an animal, my style is mad wild |
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Now back in population, I refuse to crack a smile |
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Ever since I blew trial, my attitude is fuked up |
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Anybody say shit to me is getting stuffed up |
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Petty dope dealers, pimps and big playas |
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Foxx got the black rock down to rhymesayer |
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I'm born on one's crafty shank ripping skulls |
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Chopping mad niggaz to the blade is mad dull |
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[Chorus] |
