Bad Boys 2

Lyrics

[Intro: Knowledge the Pirate] Pirate Chill [Verse 1: Knowledge the Pirate & Flee Lord] Son thought he was el presidente 'til they snatched his soul Shots flew over the grass, he know We sendin' two shooters from Cuba, usin' that MKUltra mind control After certain information was disclosed He told about the murders and them drugs that we sold The way it would come in, and where it would go Where the drugs and sticks where stashed, shit that he only know Two kilos, half a hundred G's spread out on the floor From them trees we raked the least, trashbags of that dough OT tinted V, just me and my woe Call me the referee, any foul shit, my whistle gon' blow Hunnid rounds clips, them missles I throw, yo, listen You plant them seeds then you reap what you sow Zipped up his bag, left a tag on his toe They found his body on Eight Ave, drove by in a Jag real slow (Real slow, you know? Mob shit) Don't get your soul ass assassined fuckin' with this soul assassin If you ride and stay strapped in keep your seat belt fastened Hermès belt, Valentino, yeah the latest fashion They spilled a pint of his blood like it was "Thugs Passion" Pullin' off laughin' like Will and Martin in that Aston Two bad boys, no caption Pullin' off laughin' like Will and Martin in that Aston Two bad boys (Haha, yeah, skrrt, Lord, Lord) [Verse 2: Flee Lord] Sucker when that ass and soul full of passion Take a peak in my closet, I got robes full of fashion (Robes full of fashion) You ho niggas crashin', exposed by your actions You fiendin', I can see it, in your nose, while you scratch it (Sniff!) Forty-one plates with five different flavors Ain't no where safe, so we always drive with the laser (Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom) Now we settle in the depth, with my Medellín connect (Medellín connect) Besides holdin' O's, homie heavy on his neck (Ha!) We some pirates on the land, we supply and demand (Supply and demand) On the mircowave is food, then we fry in the pan (Whip, whip, whip, whip) Shakin' up the game, hunnid shots, Jamaica aim (Brrt) Haters lame; damn near gettin' naked for the fame (Fuck outta here) Close to a mil' so it's peace, fuck a deal (Fuck a deal!) For the bread and the butter we gon' toast ya for real (Get 'em!) Our cars is the truth (Truth), there's stars in the roof (Woo) I'm in charge of the streets because I'm large in the booth, mother—, ah (Yeah) [Outro: Flee Lord] Let's go, Pirate (Brrt!), uh, ahoy, belovy (Yeah, Empire, nigga, Mobb up) Ay