Lyrics:
yo' ass up
You know where we comin' from
Death Row! BIATCH! Ha ha hahaha!
A yo, Kurupt, you first to blast, nigga
And you know how we do it
Life is much mo' precious
Than you'll think
Like a game'll make yo chips sink
It's so hard
Hard to trust a smile and face
When niggas got
[Intro: Big Moe]
Throw, yo' hands high, wave 'em side to side
Throw, yo' hands high, wave 'em side to side
Throw, yo' hands high, wave 'em side
Good evening
You could be anywhere in the world right now
But you're right here with me
Nah this ain't no movie
This is real life
Gotti I got this
Yo yo, you heard what happened to that dude yo
(You don't want to wind up, with your head tied up)
The nigga got his head blown the fuck out
[Ja rule (fabolous)]
(we trin' to kill these niggas)
Yo
(yea, uh huh, yea)
We in the door now
(yea)
Holla, rule nigga, with the f-a-b-o haha,
Yo
Yea, Uh Huh, Yea
We in the door now
Yea
Holla, Rule nigga, With the F-A-B-O haha, Yea
Yea
Cluemanatti
My nigga
Holla back nigga
Yea, Uh,
Jus' get yo money mayn, tha INC is runnin' thangs,
hideout wit 'Loose Change'.
An' you nigga Ima send you ta mommy...
wit strict ordas from Gotti ta hide
uh yo uh yo
Aye yo, I'm old school like Rick Ruler, sick jewels to big buddah
Lift dudes wit the six shooter luger
That means bring it back, NY
gon' hit yo' ass up.
You know where we comin' from
Death Row bitch Ay yo Kurupt
You first to blast nigga and you know how we do it
Ay
Yo
Listen
Illegal immigrant once again trying to take something that ain't his
First it was jobs, then school dinners
Now it's just somebody's
Eeww Weeee god damn baby
You got yams baby
I wanna hit it out the park grand slam baby
Bounce it for ya man baby
Get outta hand baby
Aye make it
kid's
Tuh
Never that
Only want that paper
Keep yo yam's
I ain't touching that
Huh
You get one chance
Don't miss
It ain't no coming back
My pockets use
It's been a long time since you've heard from us
Dat Nigga Daz Dillinger and young Gotti Kurupt
And now we back wit a little rhyme
We can't stop
Earl ]
I'm the P-r-e-a-c-h-e-r, uh
Preacher Earl and I'm considered a superstar
Pick up the microphone and I proceed to rock 'n roll
By the time I
go!
Yo! Yo!
Tell your crew to be easy, niggas run around
With them fake frowns, sell 'em on eBay
Get word to the DJ, tell 'em Staten Island's
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
[Daz] It's been a long time since you've heard from us Dat Nigga Daz Dillinger, Young Gotti Kurupt And now we back wit a little rhyme We can't stop,
Shawty said her dream is to get cuffed by a real nigga
Sorry couldn't please you i been hiding two or three bitches from ya
Where a nigga from when
on that tag on yo' toe
Now who gon tell yo mother, her baby's under a cover in the morgue
Stiff as a log, sniffed out by the dogs
Son of a hard headed
hustlers naturally born
With street smarts
Yo Karate it's you and Gotti
Y'all lift the weight
Me and Noyd, a gemstar hit down on the plate
The Mobb niggas
in CB4
Set up a contest, I'm coming
I'm taking the dough
They wouldn't pick you even if you had a afro
So don't try me, you better walk by me
I'll do
and adopted
By the streets but the
Gift he brought with him to this world
Will effect our outlooks on not only
Rap music but on life as well, forever
Forever
and redirect and i won't say none
Body, body in the trunk next day he missing
Probably, probably dumped swimming with the fishes
Gotti, gotti done never left no
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