Lyrics:
you know that Ima face it
I got big bucks boy you broke money misplacing
Majae by my side and he's used to beating cases
We can't fuck with rats
Family ain't got a clue, nigga
Been in drive bys with fly guys
Welcome to the Lou, nigga
New York on that mob shit
In Cali "what it do?", nigga
But where
bill y'all) Check this shit, yo!
I grew up on the crime side, the New York Times side
Staying alive was no jive
Had second hands, moms bounced
being hated
Sleeping on the brother like
They heavily sedated
Some say I'm one in a million
I say I'm one of a kind
Only cocky when I rhyme
I'm Muhammad
and melodies
And i'm just hoping that rose would save me
But i guess it's too late
"The velvet up in flames what a sight to see"
Part 4: 180mph fueled by six
a New York nigga ain't no one-on-one
What the fuck you saying boy, I ain't playing
Boy I will take your mother's son
I will take your bitch, from your
Howard Stern used
To work radio in Detroit
Before he became a New York City big shot
Howard and the clowns go way back"
I'm Violent J and I'm certified
to Brooklyn to Queens
Where you coming? Its that New New York
Respect the second coming motherfucker
I am the highest nigga living
Although I ain't alive it is
money way more greener than lawns
I go bad boy, Martin Lawrence
I got a bad bitch, she a foreign
I'm up top nigga in New York
And my big bro just came
Hear me, see me
Welcome to soundview projects
Bronx new york, 10473
Intersection action ribs touching
New gutter smacks replacing the whole
And they claim to be New York's king? It ain't about that
It's more serious, I plan to toast it up with you
Joke with you, happy we on top, the most
the dietitian
I remember living didn't have a pot to piss in
Till my cousin came with a proper proposition
Watch me go put on a clinic like a new physician.
I
some pieces when I'm in New York if get her time then n***a you chalked Whoa straight out the trenches and now ima boss ice in my grill when I talk
You
there wasn't shootin', but they found no shells,
New york city, hell they throwin' niggas under jails,
I got love for them and I ain't even from there,
make it rappin
Ima hustler by my nature ima still make it happen
You'll think they from New York how niggas still wit the cappin
fighting depression
Won't you dance with me
Yes I read it in the New York Times
That was on the stands today
It said that dreams were out of fashion
We'll hear no
I walk with the waves of New York City, X-rayed into my back As I floss every step that doesn't
Taste like food These red bricks have a funny way
the bank!? WHO
Open the safe!? WHO, i don't have account
WHO, my shit in the safe!? Passcode
Bombproof ebola-proof, New York Times want
A photo shoot?
Double
the sound
Of the low spark of high-heeled boys
The percentage you're paying is too high priced
While you're living beyond all your means
And the man in
the sound
Of the low spark of high-heeled boys
The percentage you're paying is too high priced
While you're living beyond all your means
And the man in
really don't mean to preach
But, mine or your city, It's all the same thing
Detroit, New York, LA, Beijing
Baguettes in Paris, linguini in Rome
I'm sitting
to give 'em
You niggas love rats like yo last name was little
Don't ask me for features unless yo shit sizzle
All in the bacc streets up in New York
I'm living the dream
That's what everybody's saying to me
I guess it must be true if I'm the only person that can't see
It's a 'confidence in
Gotta look on forward
It's a crooked borough
This Brooklyn, New York
Mothafucka, we thorough
I came a long way from those days back in Murrow (Ha)
I'm
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