Lyrics:
Yeah, yeah (yeah)
Sham's nine times ultra
Wu-tang (brrrat)
Herbs two times great (uh)
You heard of me, son (big up L.A.D.)
Four, six times ill
‘Dope Dilla’)
VERSE 2
Got something for the hotheads, that's my Chillow Smith
Whipping heads with the Wesson, thats my Willow Smith
Don't make me throw
[Repeat x2]
Comin straight off the sidewalks of New York
A nigga livin foul
As I steps inside the playground
I lays down my laws at the door
preacher, hey there Mr. Smith,
If you recognise my friend, you'd better get a load of this.
Good man, gonna give you what you need.
Good man, gonna play
died
And I'm actually joined right now by two cousins of one of the victims
17 year old Alexandria Winegarner and you were very close with her
How are
Y'all see how they do greatness
Left Nip laying on the pavement
Did the same to Pac out in Vegas
Y'all see how they do greatness
Lamar smith on his
it (stop it)
They always start it but we wit it
**Verse 2: Ty Jones**
I pull back to the city in style. On my game and it shows
Them Smith brothers
Ok, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, huh, huh, huh? (AngelLaCiencia)
'2$olid, Drae, 'meer, let's get it poppin', ay', ay', ay'
Silde on ya block wit' Fionn
Smith-and-Wessun in my Polo jacket
Sixteen shots, for all you hardrocks
And if your bitch is a dime she can get the cock
Straight up and down, we two terrible
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
homie, free the guys, nigga (gang)
Two shots from this Smith &, why they trippin'? (Grrah)
Two shots from this Henny I can feel it (gang, gang) (C Sick)
a year to two years actually. By the
time you lot are listening to this, which is February, I mean as we know Can I Play With Madness was
released the 2
Ha ha
Yeah yeah
Make it butter
I'm gonna Bankhead bounce!
No doubt
Ayo watch yo mouth!
Ayo, one two three four five six seven
Blaze
want deep leave 'em behind
Aiyo
1-2-3-4-5-6-7
Blaze the hot trizack
Shine like heaven
7-6-5-4-3-2-1
Come on Mr. Smith come get some
My
that sound like Heaven (uh-huh)
Seven, six, five, four, three, two, one
Come on Mr. Smith, come get some (some, some, some) (yeah)
When young sons
that sound like Heaven (uh-huh)
Seven, six, five, four, three, two, one
Come on Mr. Smith, come get some (some, some, some) (yeah)
When young sons
Artist: Will Smith f/ Tra-Knox
Will:
Ugh, Ugh, I'm comin' (echoes)...
...Watch ya back, I'm comin...
[Man (singing):]
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
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
mailed to Obama
This shit be foul can't see his dawg nomo & get to clutching on the coner
Tryna pull me way down I can tell by the way she pullin' all up
Aw Cool & Dre
I was the one who believed in you
Hahahaha
I got one bad chick, she by my side
About two more wait-in outside
Roll out the red
confessions
You walk a mile
In my shoes
You
Learn 1000 lessons
I keep 2 shootas
By my side
I
Call em
Smith and Wesson
Call d roc
He speak
just want to spit man I don't need this grief
[VERSE TWO]
[HOST]
I mean you got Will smith and jada Beck's and posh,
J-low and Ben aflet, 50 and vivica
Stepping on my land
Then you gonna catch the weapon (Yee-haw)
What you catching? Lead from a Smith and Wesson (Alright)
Yeah
Yeah
Yeah
Yeah
1-2
Chorus 2X
With me it's like American Express, I don't leave home without my
Smith-n-Wesson bulletproof vest
I done dug myself a hole, now I'm trying
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