Walk Out

DJ PremierDJ Premier 

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DJ Premier

Christopher Edward Martin (born March 21, 1966), better known by his stage name DJ Premier (also known as Preem, Premo, or Primo for short), is an American record producer and DJ, and was the instrumental half of the hip hop duo Gang Starr, together with emcee Guru. Born in Houston and raised in Prairie View, Texas, he has lived in Brooklyn, New York, for much of his professional career. Rolling Stone identified Premier as arguably Hip-Hop's greatest producer of all time. more »

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Uh-huh
(Tight with my loot 'cause hoes like to run game)
Hold up, baby
(Take a walk) you know I got to take care of this real quick, yeah
(Tight with my loot 'cause hoes like to run game)
What up, son? (Secure the bag)
Uh-huh
(Take a walk) yeah

Been in the house for three days high on drugs
Me and my bitch, all we do is fight and we f*ck
I been neglecting my first love, a lot of cash
She been cheating on me out there with all these other cats
And the first rule of business, secure the bag
Another one and another one, you could ask Khaled
How the young OG's spin, my burn like the power line
I made that currency flow
This three hundred fifty-seven thousand volts 
Will shock the life out you
I get back to this money, forget all about you
The only thing popping over here is gun powder
Other than that, I'm laid back admiring my life
I got a tight network of great people
We get things done, rain, sleet, hail, or snow
I'm out, outside where it's icy cold
But the money keep a nigga on fire though, ay

It's four seasons, it's no day off
3-6-5, I'm stuck to the grind
I can't shake all this good fortune
Addiction is sex, drugs, money
And the spotlight, get some

It's a war going on, nigga, come outside
You on that bitch too long, nigga, come outside
That's how you turn soft, you's a fucking tick
Stop breastfeeding, you're missing all the action
We just booked the mark for seventy thousand
Tvs and MacBooks falling off trucks
The lil' homies pulled up, their trunk full of guns
Try to sell me an arsen', I just need a lil one (goddamn, son)
Hit the club with the homies, we're just shooting the shit
Chicks try to dance on me, but I curve all of them
I got a thing for a queen, but you're not a queen
I got a lioness in my bed, she's waiting on me
Bumped into the RZA, we exchanged math
This what I'm talking 'bout
I ain't seen him a year, this why I need to be out
Every now and again, but not too much
I got to keep my mystique mysterious, serious

It's four seasons, it's no day off
3-6-5, I'm stuck to the grind
I can't shake all this good fortune
Addiction is sex, drugs, money
And the spotlight, get some

(Tight with my loot 'cause hoes like to run game)
(Take a walk)
(No doubt indeed)
(Tight with my loot 'cause hoes like to run game)
(Take a walk)

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