were getting unrestrained And I was looking like Ichabod Crane I was looking for some serious fun 'Cause a bad excuse is better than none Then it hits me, yeah, it hits me
it all down my throat Stomach's so full that I wish I could choke Seven a.m., my head's already in a spin As soon as I'm out that door Bam, it hits me
only from Harlem, I'm from the heartland When I got problems I send in a dark van Cats in the street treat me like a mob man Been number one so much, call me
'all to hear me out there Can y'all hear me out there? Through blocks and boroughs, cops is plottin' Snakes slither while hustlers chop they product Foreign cars
it's the odd shottie that got cats, likening me To the mob John Gotti rap dudes bitin' me 'cause I got it locked like the late Bob Marley Pardon me y
no listen Daddy Nitro like a fierce ?? Me flow upon de mic from a ?? area Pam pamma, original chat masta Me pam pamma, original chat masta Me pam pamma, me
shit This unity is gettin' to me Every brother on the street is my homie I'm rollin' through a hood that I never been And every brother steps to me
you what my paper like Money first, fast cars, out come the chicks of they panties and Bras Come on I said come on (Pusha T verse 1 I do hits for
canoes, till titanics, I sink ships Love doing bitches with pink lips, call me Padre Talk shit with a gun in my hand call me cockay Did this straight
face then you saw it back up Look, there's plenty to see And none of these games will be change me Imma always be O to the B, me me I'm famous Hey, hey
off two fifths Who make hits? Who we wit? Westcoast parties don't stop Who drop head-boppers? The head doctor, bed-rocker Police pursue me in squad cars
don't Check my steez, invest my g's, adjust that beats's Golddiggers wanna caress my cheek See me flow, battle free g, ceo yo That'll be me, why y'all
outta the bushes [Verse 7: Layzie] And makin these hits stay move the streets Rebels and warriors all ova the globe Find their souls to the rockin feet Maybe to me
talk the vice? Do what you do Speakin on my crew Nigga, do what you do But if it's fuck me bitch, then it's fuck you too [bushwick bill] Me and two
player-hatin 10's is for my niggas locked down in the pen And my niggas dead and gone, until we meet again 11 is for my poppy up in heaven Tell God send me
when it turns Purposely burn an emcee fricassee his hand holding the mic So he can't fold it to write I'm potent as a lightning bolt when it strike At least, one, feelin' me
past me If you don't believe me, ask Jazze He got money, he got G's And the finest *** O E's Lavish homes and luxury cars He's a ghetto superstar He'
Mae on college debt Gotti here, I'm in this shit Hey J. Cole come here this shit I bet you hear that white music But I don't mean Top 40 hits Talk to