Lyrics
, ah, butcher comin', nigga, they play sports, i race the porsche through the streets with choppers, you know us, we like the bucks on the eastern conference, i'm plugged on both coasts, from long beach to yonkers, so i'm somewhere in brooklyn smokin' weed from compton, tell me it's lit, just pull up and sell me this shit, i bag a half in three-point-fives with no scale in this bitch, you know how i play it, i press a button, your helmet get hit, ridin' through, magazine tall as a elf in the blick, beef in the air, i smell fear, i can tell you was tense, had to drop, but let you slide 'cause i could tell you was bitch, i stayed in the suite for so long, i got mail at the ritz, we bettin' on dice like the nfl on the strip, i run in the club, bump into plugs, i fell on a brick, only tom brady get more rings than my telephone get, this for the ps and my co-ds, i'm a federal with', my lawyer told me to breathe, them charges never gon' stick, let's go, ayo, we was baggin', some big nigga came through clappin', i ducked behind french, got the mac and started, he just got home from doin' a stretch, nobody put him on, all he heard was west got the bricks, you gotta sneak up on him, went and got the blow from pete, you know, pete from utica, did a stretch and came home and started shootin' up, but anyway they did five together up in attica, how i'm gettin' rich and they broke? it ain't addin' up, niggas started plottin' on me, they followed me from jummah, i peeped the nautica van, and, yo, i gotta lose 'em, floatin' down filmore, slid up in cp, one of us gotta go, it ain't gon' be me, still got the ace still, hopped out, shot pete on june, his brains landed on wakefield, two weeks later, we was baggin', the big nigga showed up, i hid behind the fridge and started clappin', hit the nigga twice in his shoulder, he bust back but missin', then i got good shots, seven bullets in the same shot, now his dust missin', get the mop, get the bleach, came a long way from 'caine, we was dealin', got my name out the kitchen, yeah, came a long way from 'caine, we was dealin', got our name out the kitchen, look, few thousand for the god crystals, i can make a call and get the raw shipment, one shot, one kill when my dog clipped him, scored on them niggas with one bullet, that's rod strickland, four fifth-ed him, left him in the front seat of his car, twitchin', i don't know what kind of raw you been sniffin', think you fuckin' with me, my bars different, rock the dior with the kaws stitchin', boy, listen, you see a spaceship when my garage doors liftin', my broad a vixen, smokin' billy's, cigar twistin', i got my shooter with me and my dog itchin', he wanna empty out a clip at where your mom's livin', nigga, you ain't gettin' shot in your legs, it's a wig shot, double back, shot him again, all my lil' shooters keep a thirty popper on them, and nine times out of ten, it's a body on them, i know it's some fuck niggas that i probably offend, but try to ride on me, your chances is probably thin, bro, i gotta go in, one of my niggas got indicted, and the fiend overdosed, they put the body on him, yeah, came a long way from 'caine, we was dealin', got my name out the kitchen, yeah, uh, came a long way from 'caine, we was dealin', got our name out the kitchen, yeah, a long way from 'caine, we was dealin', got our name out the- uh
Song details
Artist: griselda