Shark Tank

Lyrics

[Scene from Taxi Driver] How about dope? Grass? Hash? Coke? Mescaline? Downers? Nebutol? Tuonal? Chloral Hydrates? How about any uppers? Amphetamines? No, I'm not interested in that stuff Crystal meth, I can get ya crystal meth Nitrous Oxide, how about that? How about a Cadillac? I get ya a brand new Cadillac With the pink slip H'z Global, Black Market shit (yo, yo, yo) My niggas know (Yeah So, Yeah So) Yo, yo (Yeah So, Yeah So) [Verse 1: Da$H] Dolla still thugging regal, it's the tan skin Bugsy Siegel Riding in a bucket with two bitches and a rusty eagle You know it's nothing, cup of dope got me David Ruffin Dwell on this game, now we lunging on my way to the luncheon Only jewelry I wore was copper and steel Still I pop-up on random blocks for appeal, then it's real I'm at the benefit for kids with better needs The only thing it did was better off my jeans, mass extortion Crack recording raps from Jim Morrison orphan You only see me when it's violence like a shark fin The boss man, pulling strings like I'm Santana The bandana from high school, claim my damn hammer With bad grammar I did all this Catch me on Tunisian beaches off a tab of acid Eating red snapper with a goddess, got Parisian features You niggas novice, should observe the teachers Get clapped tryna short or cheat us No cuts, no breaks, get it motherfucking straight nigga [Scene from Taxi Driver] You interested in a automatic? It's a Colt .25 automatic [Verse 2: $ha Hef] Knock on the locked door, package get dropped off Bricks on a drop cloth, sick with the handle I push the pill like I'm hot sauce Cough up the knots and get knocked off The top of the drop porsche get chopped off The bitch with me is a throwaway She roll my dope, we blow a O a day She suck me then she go away This big chopper will turn a nigga to saw dust The bitch with me the same color as dandruff I need my space, made a right and pulled up on eighth I move the base, posted on the crate Right on 38th in front Domingo shit Strictly 'bout my chips, I'm on some Pringle shit I could feed the hood off a single flip True shit, move eight balls like pool sticks I'm all up in your bitch head like q-tips Smith & Wesson, nine milli' my favorite weapon Blue cheese is my favorite dressing [Hook x2: ($ha Hef) & Da$H] (Niggas better get to ducking when the pistol scream I could bag a fifty bundle from the triple beam) Gold; bury it in the sand, count up a band Light a blunt, reassure I'm the man [Verse 3: A$ton Matthews] The turtle run a race, homicide from the shell shot Slip the cuete through the mail box A gauge to my head and the cell locked All my gun shells stay well stocked The Art of War, cup of Henny in this office war Look back and fourth from the door with the eyes of a Labrador Paranoia keep me safe at night My clip is full and my game is tight She laid on ice before I laid the pipe Kiss the ring 'fore I shake the dice Daddy need a new Glock, extendo shots, and tube socks She know how them looney rules rock Your Mac-11 gu-wop We was [?] before them boondocks Since Sour Lucas and Moonrocks No loose knots on my new noose knots, ou Mama there go that man again, Mini Van Dan and them With a minivan full of mannequins, uh For the drugs that we trafficking Check the shipping and handle it We finesse for them ex souls, get exposed [Hook: ($ha Hef) & Da$H] (Niggas better get to ducking when the pistol scream I could bag a fifty bundle from the triple beam) Gold; bury it in the sand, count up a band Light a blunt, reassure I'm the man