Lyrics:
ILL DISMISS
ANY MC WHO TRIES TO GO AGAINST THIS
MY CREW IS EVERY NIGGA
I REPRESENT THE VAN WYCK AN 1-3-4 ILL CONNECT WIT AT THE DOOR
CLOSE YA WINDOW
ILL
ready? Yeah
Let's do this man
3,2,1
Ah, you thought
Alright
3, 2, 1
Oh, what's up
You thought that we were gonna turn down
Nah, nah, you must've forgot
up to my house
Grabbed my strap, Got the door
With a blunt in my mouth
Say I'm bout to put the smack down
You know ill put the smack down
And put
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight ...
I've got my clipboard, text books
Lead me to the station
Yeah, I'm off to the civil war
there?
I-I-I I've got a migraine
And my pain will range from up, down, and sideways
Thank God it's Friday 'cause Fridays will always be better than
take you by the hand (uh)
Maybe change the way you think and show you how to plan
Fuck a Chanel bag, I'll put you onto buyin' land
Sit you down, show
night, darkness falls down upon us
We rise from the fog uncomparable to any other form of life
Together we ride by night, unidentified, unseen, unknown
a Porsche with only two doors,
need to upgrade cause you missin some
We just got two different bills, different styles, different sums
Started as a drive-by
out on a drive decided to go and park it
Down by the river, walked to the store
Never got the courage up2 talk2 her before
But he'd been up practisin
to bring heat
Junebug with the eight ball crackin' for sho
We Bout to fall in the back studio and blow
[Tray-D]
Compound locked down foundation set
So keep
You know sex 'em up a little bit
You know what I mean?
You're the honey that I see when I'm riding by
The one giving me a feeling that I can't deny
of doors
Man, you're big enough to be an athlete so
You ever play any sports?
Just a little figure skating
Why don't you come up to the house and
Play some
five-oh hit the front door
Got me chillin like a star
Out the ro ro
Place anotha hand on my Georgia bull
But when I got out the truck all the hoes froze
Been stacking like frito lay, two duffel bags and a briefcase
Trying to count it by hand we be thumbing through them bands in the H
In the H, run it
feelings
Roll down road walk a sweet one back to her gaff
Inside's her man stop at the door she looks in eyes looks inside
Says why am I with this guy I love
when I blow down
Baby told me hit it from the back nigga go rounds
3 minutes condom on yo flo I'm at the door now
I had to go and I ain't even have no
just faded
God now interrogated
Truth now investigated
Worthiness contemplated
Only time remains (x3)
(Verse 2)
Infected by death
Not the killing kind
Hey, 762’s on the ground, boy
147 in the clip, I ain’t Calboy
I ain't snitching, I ain't 6ix9ine
It ain't my style boy slide music
Slide the doors
gettin' they hate on
You walk by
They get wrong
You reply then shit get blown
Way outta proportion
Way past discussion
Just you against them, pick one
me toting a pole
And I gotta get money I gotta get gwalla
These bitches on me yeah they tryna come Holla
I gotta big Thirty'Three call it that fye fye
locked spot?
The other townhouse next door
Is fucking empty
Their only kid is always fucking here
Kimmy Gibbler
Oh, I just stopped by to air out my feet
or three days later
My styles more dangerous than wrestling alligators
In shark infested water by yourself late at night
So if you’re having second thoughts
There's a roof and a door down by the shore, held up by a floor and a wall
And a window shoved up in the corner, where the curtain's about to fall
to the door
And to my surprise
Seen her in the living room
With two other guys
Reach for my pocket
I forgot my rocket
All 3 of em jumped me
Tried to take my
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