A couple of shots’ll make a nigga fumble the rock
I’m like Jay, I can juggle the Roc, watch
So they say I’m Def Jam on the block
Even if the tech jams, still able to pop
Show me a label to sign, my cable’ll watch
Earrings what you pay for a yacht, imagine that
I don’t shop in the places you cop, nope
The difference if it’s basic or not
I’m a fly nigga, S.I., Killah Hill til I die
Nigga get a bird, know this head when I ride with her
I’m a side better, got gwop, I remember
Trynna get along and nobody would lend a Helping hand, heed, I can melt the sand
Like Kanye West, diamonds in my hand
Every winter clothing, if you notice
Plus cold this, like a nigga still posing
I used to carry on like
Running the streets, acting a fool
Stick 'em up, yeah, I’m snatching ya jewels
I used to carry on like
Clapping the heat, smack at ya teeth
You out of place if you happen to speak
I used to carry on like
I used to carry on like
Say I changed, crowds scream my name
It’s Russian Roulette, you play games
Say I, tussle to death, for cash it’s nothing to sweat
Want cop no customer checks
It’s sex, drugs and guns, I lust for ones
Play the ave for it’s something to run, I’m dumping you one
From Park Hill, never ran, never will
Murderer now that Ja Rule gone, but never kill
I’m better than I’ll, a veteran still
My darts might sever ya grill, Gil told me to chill
I fill blunts like packaging ville
Wild drunk won’t crash at the wheel, like Navy SEALS
Beef, more gravy to the mills
And these ladies act shady over deals, middle fingers up Fuck you too, Wolf Pack what up with ya crew?
He’s a pussy, that’s just something to do
I used to carry on like
Fuck with a chick, they lust for a stiff
They all open off of hundreds I get
I used to carry on like
Blowing some cash, rolling some hash
Make sure a ass hope I go in the stash
I used to carry on like
I used to carry on like
Fuck with me, I have ya family lined up Shot and hung from a tree
Niggas knew I’d be a threat if the right man discover me Killing this shit, I got the whole Shao' loving me From my style there is no equal, good shit take time
Like Method Man dropping The Prequel
Lon Dini back with lethal to feed you, word is I fell off, you can hate, punk fag, I don’t need you
Speak Dini through Nicky, anytime or Debo
Nicky, Trife pose, set up my nigga Castro
Vintage on my first verse, as I’ll as my last
But on the streets push butter, gutter speak to his kids behind bars
Crime blood for all my niggas living hard
Tell 'em I’m the truth, but they didn’t believe
I do crime, get to the Earth, and with shackling beat
I rob the streets hard like Earlacker, hustle like my life don’t matter
Nothing there, to make ya brain splatter, bang, bang, bang, bang
I used to carry on like
I get it for cheap, flipping it weak
Some see the heat, still drip on the beast
I used to carry on like
They rip when I speak, muscle ya cheeks
I was looking for some trouble to beef
I used to carry on like
I used to carry on like