Lyrics:
We got it all from Heron to Fishscale
New York to Ismail get locked, I'm gettin' bail
My style is flashy like a fiver strobes
Going around the globe,
or no clucker, but ready to hustle
With boulders, bigga than yo' shoulders
Runnin from the rollers, gone on that doja
Cause cowards despise, soldiers we
in da lobby
I really trap I just rap for a hobby
I shop with my plug in LA when I visit
Might cost you yo life if we pay u a visit
I can’t fall off
twice
Hey Mr. Postman
Power, power, I come, gimme some
The deadly voice over drums, we from, ATL
Put the SWATS SWATS on yo' car
Let's travel far,
Foreign
Barbie
Foreign
Barbie
Foreign
Barbie
Foreign
Yeah
I'm the nigga in the foreign (Vrooom)
That will take yo ass touring (Leer)
I heard all your
We got it all from Heron to Fishscale
New York to Ismail get locked, I'm gettin' bail
My style is flashy like a fiver strobes
Going around the globe,
with the {niggaz} from the ditch
And it's a myth, they get {niggaz} from the suburbs, that's herbs
Yo this is for my {niggaz} on the block all day
Who
the juice
From that north north set
Where they rob for the gross
And they divey up the nets
Ain't no talkin fuck some talkin
we gonShoot em in they chest
shoulders
Keep the motor runnin', my lil hommie Slumpy Mover
I learned that from Gotti and Govana
I hook off on a nigga like I'm Rocky Marciano
Flee from
checka, micro, microphone checka (yo, Das EFX in the house)
Microphone checka, one, two, checka (yo, check it, uh)
A-higgedy-hoy there matey, um, I
Yo he got 'em done
Nobody to run to, what succumb to
My nigga just wanted to eat
Now he hunted on the street
Tales from the hood, trails of blood
Yeah
two threes
wit mothafuckin g's do everything from OZ's to keys
blowin weed by da trees
now all my south to west
them niggas rowdy
and all them niggas
checka, micro, microphone checka (yo, Das EFX in the house)
Microphone checka, one, two, checka (yo, check it, uh)
A-higgedy-hoy there matey, um, I
drive by's, homicides and shooting up niggas cars
What's the point of being a street nigga kicking with the stars
Though the niggas that you really loved
boat
I know u in yo feelings bout this youngin from the North
Take a flight out to my city I can take you for a tour
Ya tonight I’m gettin litty let me
piss
And da hoes on the corner workin' graveyard shift
Yeah, they call me the juice from that north north set
Where they rob for the folks and they
shot slugs were thugs got pot
Get swellin' hops from sellin' tops to da drugs spot
G's was clocked fat knots was in the socks
And cops who tried
Yo, what's up yo? This is Nore, nigga
Yeah, let me know when y'all comin out here
so I can y'all some gats immediately
The minu-The minute y'all
holla at yo' peoples nigga..
[Verse 1 Ja Rule]
For now on call me the don, and bicthes call me don da da
Where ever I go niggaz soon to follow'
Like
Hats off, to da rich ones who flash and floss
Pour some liquors out to my
Dogs trapped up north
Reminisce on the deceased who no longer exist
Only
live up a north
youth yuh bitch wah run the pussy
Wah fi broke yuh heart , oh God
Bad from, bad, mh hm bad by me
Bad by me, mhm yo, bad by me self
Bad in
the wack, who tryin to bite my style
Take yo ass to da old school
And part your fuckin' eyebrows
I comin' through to
About to get set
So act like WU
Already bitch
Trunk full of yay bitch, PA to H Town nigga
Get on yo' money motherfucker
It's really goin down in the South
Sweet Jones biatch!
(Uh)
the North Star, breaking concentration like the hyman
It's all about timing, rhyming in the cut
Yo what you thinking you proving by your feet not moving
While
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