Lyrics

[Intro: Joell Ortiz] Hesami Here we are again, my friend Haa (Woo) [Verse 1: Joell Ortiz] I'm a Manhattan guy, bullet ride, straight up Like good posture, for my brother, a Virgin Piña Colada Could I bother you for a life or his Partagas? For some reason, they smell way more proper mixed with this breeze in the Bahamas I imagine us retired like mobsters Sharing old stories, picking at oysters and lobster Oyster Perpetuals on the wrist but not obnoxious Here's the synopsis, frankly, we did it our way, Sinatra's Carte blanche artist with entendrеs, double and triple mantras Official monsters, wе never sold out for the bar barkers No big radio hits, but shit, you riding in your car, bark us And that's the God's honest truth Hit the move, switch up, Clark's garments Throw on that cape, an amazing weather out here, bar conscious Our fathers and prayers, save this Joell cat, used to sell crack Tryna dodge charges like the Hellcat, who felt that? 'Cause I did, my eyelids opened (I seen too many close) My old circle stuck in a can (Like they SpaghettiOs) Where I'm from it's X's and O's, since we was embryos So even when we winning confetti, it feel heavy, yo [Chorus: Joell Ortiz] Prosper Live on, yeah, boy, we gon' live long Live on, when the music this good, you gon' live on (Word) Live on, yeah, boy, we gon' live long Live on Prosper [Verse 2: KXNG Crooked] So many years in this game, I swear to God I wasn't getting what I was supposed to have I was a million dollar nigga with a overdraft This is before the Range Rover floated on Ocean Ave I was buying food stamps, bro, I'm in my grocery bag Negotiating deals, broke and mad Your bargaining power's over when you grab a soda and close the tab I took a lot of L's, so I'm glad I left a bad situation but it seem like I made the culture mad Look, I'm still one of the realest you heard No more selling keys, no more getting stoned I guess I'm killing two birds, move to the suburbs, superb I owe a lot of my destiny to two words, Kool Herc Grab a mic and do work Me and Joell are like Rakim and Quik You don't like how we do it, sue us, the truth hurts All about our scratch like Qbert We all tattoos under a new shirt We cut from a fresh cloth with this ink, boy Who me? I write the type of Shit that'll fix all my problems just like MacGyver And chicks, I don't shoot shots, I just the socket piper Eating pussy, layin' on my stomach like a sniper (Ha-ha) Prosper Eating pussy, layin' on my stomach like a sniper