[Havoc]
Thats that creep, creep mode baby we in creep mode
Dont come around here baby, shinin like that
[Verse-Havoc]
Its crazy on this side, come thru, gun thru
Oh ya man live out here, dont go and get comfortable
Dont know what he told you aint sweet around here
And I dont care what he told you aint sweet around here
See you ridin that Infinity, now thats not fair
Is that a 2006?, OK
Playboy we got walls that aint made all day
You comin thru the hood straight dangling state
We takin medium-rare, grilled debatin us
Lettin that slide's not up for debate
Oh you met, you a local guess what she bait
She dont know right now but trust me the bitch bait
Now gonna get all in the business, that shorty is mad cool
My man was diggin at but she a lil bit natural
First time we catch you comin out the building we snatch you
And takin whats yours, first thing we ask you is
[chorus-Havoc]
Fuck brought ya ass around here
Like you somebody lookin like the player of the year
Boy, fuck brought ya ass around here
This is Queens lil homie get caught around here
Fuck brought ya ass around here
Comin thru for these bitches, shit happen around here
Fuck brought ya ass around here
Like niggas got somethin to live for around here
[Verse-Prodigy]
You ask me all these rappers is bums
Hav showed me the flow and I ran with it dun
I mean really, yall gotta be the most worst
Rap shit I ever heard compared to P verse
We emerge on the scene
Everything seems
(stop), watch is very bling bling
Nigga wanna swing swing, very much so
But once we get in the air, thats a wrap bro
Our songs good to go straight to the radio
Flex easy on the ?? let these niggas hear to flow
We americas most dangerous to have fans
New York New York, we the kings of the dam
We party too much and smoke too much grass
And we never see the bright side we only see the bad
Fuck all that, its alot of niggas dead
And I wont let em get me how they got them
[Chorus]
[Verse-50 Cent]
Yea cock that, aim that, squeeze that, shoot the steel
Cadillac Coupe De Ville, woodgrain on the wheel
Cocaine in the pot, baking soda water hot
When the ice cubes drop, look at that, thats crack
Bag that, nigga stack, black hoody fitted hat
Grimy nigga with a gat screamin "where the money at"
My hood southside, riders ride thats right
Yayo he know, Banks know, Buck know
Shit it aint about the dough I aint really with it yo
Camaflouge on the low, ridin round with the heat
I aint say wassup to you, nigga you dont know me
Im on the grind all the time, heavy shine and a nine
Clip fill till the tip, stunt I get on some shit
Different day different bitch, old hoopdy new kicks
Oldsmobile fuck that, no rims, hubcaps
Keep my eyes open for them niggas that dun buck that
[chorus]
Writer(s): Albert Johnson, Kejuan Waliek Muchita, Curtis James Jackson, Bappi Lahiri, Ramesh Pant
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com