Lyrics:
Let's say we take it back to the trap one time"
I went from rollin' wit' dem rocks on the block (hey)
To controllin' my position at the top
Of every
Let's say we take it back to the trap one time
I went from rollin' wit' dem rocks on the block (hey)
To controllin' my position at the top
Of every
chill now you punch
Larceny? All I see is a bunch of new punks
I'd have you lyin' to ya mother
Bringin' money e'ry day nigga
You ain't even have to pay
MTV cribs
Wake me up at never-o-clock (O-clock)
Doing isn't being but I've done a lot
Had to move around on the block (The block)
But I'm still
reapin up, and no keeping up with the Jonses
Long live P.E. and ban Guns'n'Roses
New Kids on the Block, stick to pop
No more making black songs, wack songs
somethin' made for the station
For a whole new relation (yeah)
Ship of a new type of scene
To go platinum and clock mad green
AKA, a sellout, the rap
You got the kid onna' tour
I'm upset set set set
Whole new tec tec tec
Cops that came to the door
Shit what's next next next
This ain't nothing for
paid (Brrt)
Switching scenes
Renegade in a sense
I live by a different creed
Different breed ah
Enemies I, (Bitch) ain't got the energy
I got two kids
the block off
Caught him, Dick in hand and got it chopped off
That ain't really Runtz, That shit a knock off
I just bought a brand new bitch to pop off
Fuck
Tour bus like a National Geographic
Bitches runnin' wild gettin' faded in the bathroom
It makes me smile, it makes me smile
'Cause I got it
It makes me
money I got (I run New York!)
I, I get money, money I got (I, I get it)
I, I get money, money I got (I, I get it)
I, I get money, money I got (Yeah,
bitches got my thumbs hurt
Set precedent for a new sacreligion
Writer's block for two years, nothin' moved me
Asked God to speak through me, that's what
got me crying
'Cause you said I could call you while you out on tour
Shit and I be trying, I even text you, but you not replying
So when your new
Dear Gerald, you're fourteen years and a truant
You're trying to find your place, and figure out where you fit
You're finna start rappin' with a kid
ear
Yea, we're at the airport out decline from the block
Where everybody air-forced-out
With a new white Tee, you fresh
Nothin' phony with us, make
score like that
Forty city shit, I could tour like that
Rap money turn it into trap
Shoot 'Em Up Gang, I be into that
Drive-by Gang, I be into that
I
man I wish I had my kid there
Then I remember days when niggas on the block hoopin'
In the middle of the game some niggas start shootin'
And I remember
Wants a picture by the bait blocks
(Wants a picture by the bait blocks)
I told them hurry, let me scate off
I've been dropping all this weight off
Still
This neighborhood is full of mutts
Barking kids and arguments
People yell from block to block
And quiet down by ten o'clock
They blow their
necklace
Bitches that we came with got all of your bitches jealous
'Bout to leave the crib with a couple of my pirates
Driving by the streets we used
your bid and kill no kids
Roughneck reppin' the set, bang 'em twice in the neck
C.O. flip and jerk the whole yard rec
Block vets, pop barettas,
Murder
And them somebody gonna get stomped out by a nigga that's wearing Timbs
New York was killing me
New York was killing me
New York was killing
over with the streets shit
Least see my kids on the weekend
Carter, new Kennedy
No ordinary Joe, you'll remember me
No prohibition for my coalition
chauffer
New tour dates, take the money
Put out more tapes
And call it foreplay, ready for the war games
Sew it up and then fuck with the stitches!
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