Spliff-N-Wessun

Lyrics

[Intro: Sean Price] Yeah, Sean P Nahmean? On Kingston Ave, with Crown Heights' best MC You know, Ruste Juxx Haha, yeah, check it out, ready? Ayo, ayo, listen [Verse 1: Sean Price] It go stop with the bullshit Playing-game niggas hopscotch when the tool click Don't make me pop ya Ya black eye blue, bitch, Frank Sinatra You see ST and you be thinking rasta Think it's peace and love but I think he'll drop ya Fake gangsta rappers got you thinkin' mobster It's a fact you an actor, thinking Oscars, yo That's when I slap this jerk Take his Jesus piece, send him back to Catholic church Niggas actin' like my motherfuckin' gat don't work 'Til you hit and then collapse in the dirt and screamin', "That shit hurt" Motherfuckin' right, that shit hurt Niggas play tackle football with a plastic Nerf Bitches with dreadlocks and drapes on they back Suck dick, plus they make biscuits from scratch [Verse 2: Ruste Juxx] Yo, yo, yo Niggas dial 9-1-1 I tote a Smith Wess' 1-9-9-1 .45s and P229's Storyline, it begins once upon a crime Rustee Juxx in the gutter like stashed crack Any block, any bitch, I'ma smash that Yo, yo, ayo fuck Force 1s, Juxx stomping in Gore-Tex Blaze up crucial, warp me through a vortex Side street, Brooklyn playa-listic Mossberg music, duke, don't get it twisted [Interlude: Sean Price acting like Brother J from X-Clan] Ah, vainglorious This is protected by the B, the C, and the C Sissies P Yo, yo [Bridge: Sean Price & Ruste Juxx] Ayo I shine, you shine In this day and time, we pop off ya' head with the nine Nah, we not soft, go 'head with the lies Duke, you a knockoff, ya thread and designs is Off the table I'm dead broke, nigga - they cuttin' off my cable [Verse 3: Ruste Juxx] The criminal of the year, yeah I'm back to rob So take ya shine off when you see me on the job Due to the MAC, I'm strapped, ready to clap React, stop runnin' ya yap, and run ya stack Jaw-carryin' chop and blow gems Slash you in ya Benz with stop-and-go rims Pumpin' on the block, them rocks that glow stems And I'm rollin' on 10s the size of my Timbs [Verse 4: Sean Price] Let me get a turkey sandwich and a bottle of juice, please A dollar change left? Fuck it, give me two loosies We ain't got no trap Three songs, one session, it's econo-rap [Verse 5: Ruste Juxx] Spit, rip a nigga ass, raw rap on the reg' Catch me in the weed spot, clicking on the dread See me in the flesh, real liftin' ya chain All you feel is the flame, fifth in ya frame In the cut wit' ya bitch, feelin' up on her butt and her tits She wanna fuck but she can start suckin' this dick I got a clique that move more crowds than Eric B With a shotgun, air hole TEC and Desert Eag'