Lyrics

[Verse 1: STS] Okay rap game shady, these words are dirty 380 Blasting out the window, we're skirting in the Mercedes Either smell the roses or you pussy's push daisies Bitches call me sugar when they should've called me crazy Enough to drop jewels, when fools copping fugazi Born in a b-boy stance, back in the 80's We demanded more but motherfuckers was lazy Brought it to your door but mother fuckers was Swayze And that ain't how they made me, my niggas would've [K'd??] me Nice with the pen so the sword don't phase me Gentleman of leisure and development; appraise me Shit is a fiasco but hip hop saved me Hip hop pays me; now that I got your attention Strong arm rapping all I needed was the henchman Bear with me only gets worse if I ain't mention Bury niggas under the earth is my intention [Verse 2: STS] All the heroes, all the villains where we from partner This ain't no howdy-doody honky ass Buck Rogers The Pun stated "ain't no wins in mi casa" I protect home mother fucking Mike Piazza Leader of the rasta, read it like a roster Made them kiss the ring, yes I'm greeted like a mobster Props to the purist in this hip hop biz It's a cold amongst niggas that grew up on Big Got drunk off Pac, wish that Big L got A chance to really get his shine on before he got shot This is Dungeon Family bumping up and down my block Talking Big Rube interludes, Cool and the Witch Doc Those are the tic-tocs I never forget Sucker emcees, kick rocks and [?] Tozz, Oz, Kansas; no motto Got my dog with me ain't no mother fucking Toto Too bad bitches, that's the mother fucking logo Bust a rappers ass ain't no mother fucking homo Bring the beat back this the mother fucking promo Love hitting trees I ain't Sonny fucking Bono And I don't care what Bo Know, I go where the flow go It got me overseas shopping at Bel Air [Soto] Or [Sotu] however you would say it Pocket full of Euro be the way a nigga play it Pocket full of stones if I gotta UGK it Watch sunshine, mother fucker UV-ray it Gold rush three see we fucking dedicated Chronic in the air got a nigga medicated Murder is the mission this is premeditated Rolling up another getting re-elevated Bear with me, it only gets worse; it's been stated I'mma keep rapping 'till my vocals get faded Or niggas get jaded Move to the hills, try and settle down Find a brand new thrill Finally reach a point where niggas' shits getting real Don't want to reach a point where niggas' shit looking ill