Selecione o idioma para traduzir esta letra
Stay dip, cute bitch out in Delaware, moving our bricks
So hard, stupid big stones from Miss Stella ear
She just turn 35, we in the spot on Martin Luther King Drive
Whole team getting high, on phones
We learned different codes of pig Latin
So the jakes donât follow our trail with sick patterns
And the crib is jig, Jennifer convertible love seat
Thatâs worth forty Gâs from Madrid
In Spain, sipping cherry Cosmoâs and things
Stella, finish the glass, showing niggas her rings
I said bitch, I ainât impressed with that
Why the fuck is every briefcase short by at least ten stacks
We had a mil' in each bag, thereâs eighty grand missing
You pop up with a new Jag', with a bad system
I done sent your ass to Hawaii and Waikiki
When your man needed bail, youâll come see me
Rob me? Thatâs how we do? You pretty slick muthafucka
You must think Iâm a sucker
Matter fact, you gon' suck this dick, how bout that for a change
Let me see whatâs really on your brain
She said âStarkey, you violating me, stop it'
I saved up for this shit, you playing me like a hostage
Out of all people, I wheeled you around, when you got shot
Be the closest one too you, and may I rot
In hell, yo Starks, chill, I donât think she that stupid
Since '90, '95, she came through, kid
Two million in six weeks, cover six space
Just to think of those towns alone, we brought a big steak
But it still donât change the job
Aiyo, Tone, who this silly bitch trynna rob
Niggas been getting money, since pushing a Saeb
In the spot writing rhymes, never heard of a blog
Is it that coincidental? That the same rental
Be out in Virginia and DC, before she come see me
Iâm ready, put this hammer in her face in 3D
I know thatâs your home girl, but fuck it, on GP
And I donât like her brother, either, he probably put her up to it
Give me the word and I go empty his fluid
Shady? I been bagging up since 1980
Me and Ghost been tight, since Fred met Grady, lady
So what you telling me? My account is off?
Oh you must really motherfucking think we that damn soft
Hold on, yo, Sheek, what you gon' do? Cut her whole hand off?
Put a pillow over her face, and let the four bang off?
Or we can get the gat taping so the ho canât talk
Before we get the whole story cut this whole thing short
I donât think thatâs wise at all, whatever honey do with her money, dog
Thatâs not my problem, why is it yours?
Wu-Block, you riding for mine, Iâm riding for yours
Thatâs the motto if you talking bout homicide, my lord
Itâs survival, homey, you ainât never lied, my lord
But the Pretty Toney baby ainât never lied before
Thatâs a hundred lucci, word to Bully, I smoke too many loosies
I know her history, if something fishy, must be the coochie
It ainât no mystery, your finger itchy, if she a groupie
Once you go up, once you go down, letâs keep it Gucci
You take her head, I take all the jewelry from all these moolies
Get all your goonies, and we can meet up for Call of Duty
Ainât nothing funny like Paul Mooney, this fatal beauty
Got some explaining to do, hold up, I thought you knew me
Better than that, we know the cheddar was tapped
You getting bread in the trap, why get in bed with them rats
My son is missing some racks, and Louch is fitting to snap
She need to come up with answers, instead of fixing her mack
Makeup, just give the facts, straight up, and just the facts
If you did it, we gon' bury you with it, and thatâs that
- Álbum:
- Hidden Gems
- Wu-Block