Instrument
Ensembles
Genres
Komponistar
Utøvere

Sangtekst: Lloyd Banks. Rotten Apple. Change.

Yeah, uh, yeah
I like the way that sound
Now

Check, n**** ya feelin' like a frog in a jump
One weed will bring you from the bottom the trunk
From the trunk to the dump
I'ma rain on 'em, put the chump a slump

Like a rib shot
That's what the customers want
Don't cha, this ain't the typical story
Therefore I don't fall in the category

I'm cool calm and collective
You con'in a Lexus
Blew chronic for breakfast
It match with the necklace

Nines only down til' the rats wanna check this
Reckless, born treacherous warn specialist
Especially if you rest next to me
N**** come testin' me, you get the gun recipe

These old n****z want the new born sound
Actin' like they don't know who holdin' New York down
Yeah, I used to buy Nick's, ten years later now
I'm super-fly slick without a roof on my whip, s***

I sip a hundred proof til' I'm ripped
And wave at the haters who got a root canal sick
Tell n****z 'Like to make a scene' so the llama's close
That kind of s*** don't fly like mumma jokes

So they got 'em long-short, Old kinda toast
More out of left s***, trailers all around the coast
To places you get around by boat, I get a pound I smoke
I put 'em down them dope

I'm real scope when I pass the block, I make traffic stop
A prodigal wave thing that make the apple rot
This apple jacks, be long before the platinum plaques
The Pro Tools and the wax

Take a step back 'fore you catch a contact
The flows like an M-16 with an arm-strap
I'ma bomb on n****z until they can't bomb back
The Hiroshima demeanor, microphone crack

All of s*** changed since a came
A lot came 'round here, f***in' up the game
Therefore I ain't servin' nothin' but the pain
You playin', I'm hungry than a mahf***er' mayn'

Rob a store 'fore you walk around poor
'Cause you ain't gettin' nothin' from me, you grown more
You fuelin' up the fire when you hate
So I'ma lean on ya' til' you make a mistake, I can't wait

Until the curtains close
It's just me and Tony, in them purple O's
Indoor overload, drive like I own the roads
These n****z is p*** that's why my shoulders cold

M by the toted bow, I'm ridin' filthy in the Beamer
'Cause I can have Lamina Calina bring to a mister meaner
You drown in deep water, any n**** around come
From the street corner, where you need your heat on ya

I'm on the climb while my next CD climbs South side
Greedy Dine, red wine, DB9, NYPD grind
Why? It ain't an easy grind
A n**** try to get mine, I'ma feed him nine

And it's graffiti time, n****az sprayin' ya mural
For try'na by a motherf***in' hero
I'm fresh, fly and flashy, best guy if you ask me
Jet by on the nasty, n**** you in a taxi

All of s*** changed since a came
A lot came 'round here, f***in' up the game
Therefore I ain't servin' nothin' but the pain
You playin', I'm hungry than a mahf***er' mayn'

Rob a store 'fore you walk around poor
'Cause you ain't gettin' nothin' from me, you grown more
You fuelin' up the fire when you hate
So I'ma lean on ya' til' you make a mistake, I can't wait

Ha, ha, yeah, uh
G-Unit
Raw