6 Minutes of Death

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Jae Millz] Millz break the block down from A to Z I could supply you with work, little nigga, I'm like a temp agency I'm in the kitchen, wood chair with the feet broke Soft white got the table looking like a ski slope Fuck going out, me and my money elope And most niggas rap about money but they be broke My man went to Morehouse and had strong blow So I had him pitching in Atlanta like John Smoltz Nigga, money make the world go round And a stack of it'll make a nigga girl go down, clown Patron and Grey Goose get the bitch loose And after the crew, I'll have her licking on her sis, too We getting money where I'm from, nigga (Harlem!) We getting tired of your chick, tell her pack her shit Come and get her, put her onto some shit, and get her grind right Get her mind right, fatten the ass and get her spine tight I'm the flyest Most niggas want a deal with Nike I'm like, dumb nigga, I'm tryna buy it I need percentages, I don't care who the hottest Little nigga, I think big like Christopher Wallace And I won't stop until my grandkids' grandkids sitting on dollars And I ain't even a father, nigga, call me Your Majesty Young, black and fly And when it come to dough I got a Jewish mentality Little fuck niggas still trying to battle me I go in their mouth like I'm a dentist looking for cavities I don't know why your mans hyped you with that battery I'll hit your whole team with caps, and I don't mean salaries, nigga Already got dough, now I'm chasing the power I'm the statue, stand tall cause I'm replacing the Towers And these niggas washed up now, they faces is sour Mad cause they broke and lonely and I'm making them dollars With enough divas to spread out to ten cities I can throw assists all night like I'm M. Bibby Harlem got a fucking reason to front now Uptown, let's go, we got a reason to stunt now I told Joey and Stack shit ain't intact Captains lost our city now we gotta get it back Nigga, you can take it how you wanna But ain't nothing impress me for the last three summers I don't give a fuck how disrespected you may feel Nigga, see me when you see me It's whatever, it's Jae Millz, motherfucker [Verse 2: Stack Bundles] Nigga, the booth feel better when real 'round it Still round it, dress square but a nigga well rounded Grounded like I came home late on my curfew And proved I was better than most niggas my first two Lil' years in the mixtape league Now it's bidding war time, I got a Bloomberg league So the hood's overwhelmed They know it's the voice of the hustle Whenever they hear son up at the helm Son give 'em hell like Daniel in The Advocate The fans fiending for it, they got the addict itch That's the bundles, put it all in your nose These niggas is lil' me's, hear it all in their flows Ho's, that's a topic you don't even wanna touch on I face-fuck the ones you couldn't touch on Hand brushed on see the denim, know what these 'bout The Antik's, Red Monkey's, or Vi's out Y'all bring the V's out, I can even splurge GT's wasn't me so I'm leaning towards the Spurs Leaning towards the furs a lil' more to my nature Mink, coyote, fox all in the nature I get it in blocks I'm the Seymour Cake-ster I give it on the arm, you can get it from me Cause if prices was any cheaper y'all be sellin' it for free Paid 2-3 sell it for 2-2-5 McDonald's is making more for profit off Super Size I spit the truth inside, niggas wrote the fake shit These niggas practicing snitching, y'all on some jake shit Millz spoke on it, I agree with him Can't even spar with niggas, what's the reason for a gym Ain't hot enough to even work up a sweat I been fire since Wu days with The Purple Cassette So when you mention my name these niggas get offended No chain on, just a five star pendant General of that Riot so Squadddd Up Feeling real prestigious hopping out that Porsche truck I'm on top of my game and still climbing They're not fucking with him, can't even peel off his hymen [Verse 3: Joe Budden] It's the nigga with the mask on that would yack dude for jewels Ain't gotta say it, that dude the truth, make me put that tool to use And these niggas that be in the game shakin like Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf Not Tourrette's, gotta rep my team to the end Lambos to Ferraris to the Beamers to the Benz If I blam it'll kill, never ran never will Only thing that bleed on me is these jeans on my Timbs Hat low, it's not a weak link in my squad I'm LL, in too deep, I'm thinking I'm God Far as rappers, I'm thinking they're frauds Call 'em all Rubix Cubes cause I really used to think they was hard Ha! For once trust me, you don't wanna start problems The pound will make you Eddie Curry with a heart problem So if you on the block with only a few grams, man Then you a bird nigga, Toucan Sam And any beat, I'mma air that, rappers just gotta wear that Fox Brown should be the only one that can't hear that Hit you in the spine or the belly, gun on me I ain't Sticky Fingaz, I ain't leave mine in the telly, smell me? Thank god he ain't fucking wit that red line Cause I'll murk any nigga that disrespect mine If it wasn't Fed time, or lock up or rec time Dude'll be a Daily News headline You ain't the best, what memo got sent? If you got dogs, what kennel they in? So if you wanna get fresh like a Mentos mint Then it'll tempt those men with clips longer than Leno's chin There ain't no type of guts wit you You Terrell Owens, them niggas that wear eagles They don't even wanna fuck with you Me, fam? I was pimping weed dirt Back when niggas used to rock Simpsons t-shirts I'll give it to any nigga, I mean any nigga Big man or skinny nigga, dare a dude tempt me, nigga Auto or semi, nigga; dump till it's empty, nigga They don't even want you in New York -- you like Penny, nigga Check the time -- it's around that hour Little niggas, they ain't 'round that powder They ain't super or Luigi or Mario, ain't found that power Plus they couldn't spit fire if they found that flower Cowards, know the toys bust loco While they trying to dap my hand like the Boy's Club logo And yea that 5 slide and clock I'm the million dollar baby, but I won't die trying to box Don't want a piece of the cake, I won't the pie and all I don't believe 'em when they say that they supplying the raw You don't move white, you lying, dog That's a never-ending story without the white flying dog Son, these dudes is broke, don't know the feeling of bread They in debt, tampon niggas, still in the red And the fans keep asking if ya man stopped beefing I call 'em Mr. Fantastic, tell 'em, "Stop reaching" [Outro: Killa BH] Ah-ha, stop reaching! Killa BH, son! I'm ready to rock Yo, ah-ha When I come through, I'm like...a something I can't remember I'm that nice Like the spice Ah-ha I can't even spit right