Sangtekst: Cru. Live At the Tunnel.
My outlet is full of powerful niggas
Electrify ya tie, spark up the lah
Keep the room dark, let me fill out my high
Then slap box my ghost till one of us cry
Jae to the Won can niggas fuck around?
And they better say nah, word to Allah
They dyin' down I got iron now
Run upon 'em, cock it back, tie 'em down
If he try to move then I gotta lie him down
From Y O a.k.a. Riot Town
I used to buy it but I just supply it now
Y'all used to talk but you're all quiet now
You know what it is that really makes it scrape it
Have a lot of cars and the lot still vacant
And you won't stop speakin' till I leave you on the cement
Leakin', all hot, none eatin'
Slow down, son, you're kill 'em
Okay, you can bring it to 'em
Everyday, just like Mary J.
Sippin' iced teas in the E and J
Partyin', till your bare remain
You're killin' 'em, okay you bring it to 'em
Everyday, just like Mary J.
Honeys at the bar sippin' Alaze
Cru and Lox is your hair remain, I know you brailin' me, baby
Yogi's in the lead, you're trailin' me, baby
The PHd's can't compete mines is better than yours
Then we can take it to the streets, my rum's redder than yours
BX where the attic sniffy chalk outline
And the clubs they shout mine, shit's about time
Chad and Mighty Ha, key the predicate felon
When he make bell he eat more booty than Ellen
Who you tellin'?
The world is mine like Esco
If not, at least a house and Esgro
Turnin' ghetto stars into Uncle Tom's
Yogi, the mellow low key
Understandin' my crew is strictly Shark Bar
Champagne toastin' while you splittin' Clark Bars
I'd rather be live at The Tunnel with Flex
Then on the corner holdin' bundles, next
Y-O's time to see the hunger in me
And I see the same thing in niggas younger than me
Like they live, they ain't got a slice to give
In the broken down home and they priceless kids
Why wouldn't it grab the gun, heist the crib
And the never learn shit until twice their bid
Like the world turn around funny clown money
Everybody laugh when they have it
What about the addict niggas that'll hustle for years
Till they see the graveyard up at the tip
Playin' spades, you in the world and playin' sharades
If the wait jumped off you ain't touch a grenade
Wanna die for the cause? Lie for the doors
Niggas wanna play but never took time to pause
Learned to remind and check the phat four
Try to plug it in they wanna slice up the chords
Yo, yo if you got the doe, B, then show me
'Cause I'm walkin' these streets and no one know me
It's gon' change though, with the ill strange flow
In the 9-8 push my a black Range Rove
I keeps the real, separate from the fake
If I kill, yo, I'm doin' so for the cake
Blastin' go to a distant land
See my gun's like church to a Christian man
It's the code of the streets no time the explain
Free that soul on up to the next plain
Remember the pain, two shots from the flame
Remember the bloodstains, the cold wet rain
Little light guys with little white lies
We takin' out cash and flippin' big white pies
You rather run wild with your 9 mil. slant
You watchin' too much Stallone and Van Damme
Yo Lox, what the fuck, what the fuck walked in here?
Where my crew at? Wave your shit in the air
Now bust 'em once for the niggas who ain't with you
And jam above, show muthaphuckin' love
We make cake but to make cake you need batter
So it ain't kickin' that shit the beat ain't gonna matter
Lox and Cru, el familiar to you
So if you want it you can get the 60 shot pronto
Sheek that kid that spit out like tobacco
Lyrically fucked out, a fit ain't chips, we ducked out
Won't touch out if it ain't a 7 figure route
Aye yo, Chad papa, where that cranberry and vodka
Let's get flicks, spit on the niggas like this
From Y-O to B-X y'all niggas straight C. S.
But we count the Benjamins and collect Che-X
My begets shine on my neck like I'm flex
Give 'em what they want, this what they lookin' for
Y-O-G, Chadio and The Mighty Ha
Hit 'em in data once again with buttah hits
Baby Chris ridin' with my peeps Mark Pitts
Comin' with the buttahs, production Y-O-G
Grab a chickenhead, lets crack the bubbly
Flows by the Gods cause the styles pronto
Dayes ya go, dayes ya go
Electrify ya tie, spark up the lah
Keep the room dark, let me fill out my high
Then slap box my ghost till one of us cry
Jae to the Won can niggas fuck around?
And they better say nah, word to Allah
They dyin' down I got iron now
Run upon 'em, cock it back, tie 'em down
If he try to move then I gotta lie him down
From Y O a.k.a. Riot Town
I used to buy it but I just supply it now
Y'all used to talk but you're all quiet now
You know what it is that really makes it scrape it
Have a lot of cars and the lot still vacant
And you won't stop speakin' till I leave you on the cement
Leakin', all hot, none eatin'
Slow down, son, you're kill 'em
Okay, you can bring it to 'em
Everyday, just like Mary J.
Sippin' iced teas in the E and J
Partyin', till your bare remain
You're killin' 'em, okay you bring it to 'em
Everyday, just like Mary J.
Honeys at the bar sippin' Alaze
Cru and Lox is your hair remain, I know you brailin' me, baby
Yogi's in the lead, you're trailin' me, baby
The PHd's can't compete mines is better than yours
Then we can take it to the streets, my rum's redder than yours
BX where the attic sniffy chalk outline
And the clubs they shout mine, shit's about time
Chad and Mighty Ha, key the predicate felon
When he make bell he eat more booty than Ellen
Who you tellin'?
The world is mine like Esco
If not, at least a house and Esgro
Turnin' ghetto stars into Uncle Tom's
Yogi, the mellow low key
Understandin' my crew is strictly Shark Bar
Champagne toastin' while you splittin' Clark Bars
I'd rather be live at The Tunnel with Flex
Then on the corner holdin' bundles, next
Y-O's time to see the hunger in me
And I see the same thing in niggas younger than me
Like they live, they ain't got a slice to give
In the broken down home and they priceless kids
Why wouldn't it grab the gun, heist the crib
And the never learn shit until twice their bid
Like the world turn around funny clown money
Everybody laugh when they have it
What about the addict niggas that'll hustle for years
Till they see the graveyard up at the tip
Playin' spades, you in the world and playin' sharades
If the wait jumped off you ain't touch a grenade
Wanna die for the cause? Lie for the doors
Niggas wanna play but never took time to pause
Learned to remind and check the phat four
Try to plug it in they wanna slice up the chords
Yo, yo if you got the doe, B, then show me
'Cause I'm walkin' these streets and no one know me
It's gon' change though, with the ill strange flow
In the 9-8 push my a black Range Rove
I keeps the real, separate from the fake
If I kill, yo, I'm doin' so for the cake
Blastin' go to a distant land
See my gun's like church to a Christian man
It's the code of the streets no time the explain
Free that soul on up to the next plain
Remember the pain, two shots from the flame
Remember the bloodstains, the cold wet rain
Little light guys with little white lies
We takin' out cash and flippin' big white pies
You rather run wild with your 9 mil. slant
You watchin' too much Stallone and Van Damme
Yo Lox, what the fuck, what the fuck walked in here?
Where my crew at? Wave your shit in the air
Now bust 'em once for the niggas who ain't with you
And jam above, show muthaphuckin' love
We make cake but to make cake you need batter
So it ain't kickin' that shit the beat ain't gonna matter
Lox and Cru, el familiar to you
So if you want it you can get the 60 shot pronto
Sheek that kid that spit out like tobacco
Lyrically fucked out, a fit ain't chips, we ducked out
Won't touch out if it ain't a 7 figure route
Aye yo, Chad papa, where that cranberry and vodka
Let's get flicks, spit on the niggas like this
From Y-O to B-X y'all niggas straight C. S.
But we count the Benjamins and collect Che-X
My begets shine on my neck like I'm flex
Give 'em what they want, this what they lookin' for
Y-O-G, Chadio and The Mighty Ha
Hit 'em in data once again with buttah hits
Baby Chris ridin' with my peeps Mark Pitts
Comin' with the buttahs, production Y-O-G
Grab a chickenhead, lets crack the bubbly
Flows by the Gods cause the styles pronto
Dayes ya go, dayes ya go
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