* send corrections to the typist
This Nigga just bought eleven machine guns And he brought them in my crib
Glittered out, stout face, teck, Rae up in the Hilton Heard Nia Long is in the building Penthouse fashion, ordered out room service It looked bugged cause the waiter looked nervous Lift off the lid, seen two shiny thirty-eights aimed at the kid Rae up in the shower singing Son don't know that it's real Coming looking like he about peel something In a tight jam, red down, matching like santa If I could just reach my hammer He bust two shots, I played mice Ran to the spot were the sun was at, quickly he was blinded by the ice That's when Rae ran out of the back Towel on, soap on his arms, spit duke around, fell on my lap
Yo, what the fuck happened?
It was a set up to get wet up
Nah, his blood fucked my white leather up Yo hurry up, we got to get him up Get the sheets son, let's fix him up Lock the door, turn the TV off, your kicks is near the light switch
Just give me two minutes to iron my shirt, find my ices
(Raekwon and Ghostface Killah) Put down the phone stupid
Landed on his back, with his gat, now that's dope We got three minutes, nobody seen shit Somebody might have heard shit Singing on some Martin, were my momma bird shit Fuck your socks, that's when we heard the door knock Everything all right? Partying son, balloons popped Threw this dude under the bed A half dressed Raekwon, swallowing diamonds Had money in juice up on his wedding day The phone rang off, the tea kettle blew, wifey hitting me, What you want sweaty, lima beans and kidney Trashed the beeper, slowly I reached for the reefer Throw a Costa, peep oh son the house keeper Soap suds dripping from his nuts, cut up gut Praying how me make it out the telly and touch
(Chorus - Ghostface Killah) Fuck it, a Wesley Snipes movement on a Sunday in Bermuda We laptop niggas, thugs in a computer Caught up in the grimy shit Finding two days later a murder and we got to make this flight shit It was a Wesley Snipes movement on a Sunday in Bermuda We laptop niggas, thugs in a computer A Wesley Snipes movement on a Sunday in Bermuda We laptop niggas, thugs in a computer
Ayo, the pressures on, sonny got murk Ayo, Deini it's on, check out the news flash Flew out the next day, back to the Tony estates Blew on the first class flight to L.A. It ain't take long, I pulled a few strings on the horn That nigga we stuck and took the caine from We should have killed him when we had him Yo I was holding a Magnum Yeah we bagged him, but we let him slide in the wagon His bad little brown ho, from out Chicago She move his cargo, good at handling Roscoes We had our eyes closed God, we should have seen it coming He should have seen me coming, running out the shower gunning It all came to me, in back of my mind, just like my favorite song How dare this nigga even think that he could take us on Sent the kite through the Pens Known to split wigs, with razor sharp gems CO's with babies on their arms look tight And this nigga from down state got shipped up north Stocky young fella, running his lips on how he set it off Then heard that shit, plus got that kite Money got murdered in his bunk that night
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