Intro:
|
Keep your plans on the low
|
Just another chamber, the swarm
|
Roll dark and deep, Bobby Digital
|
Wu-Syndicate, Wu-syndicate
|
Be Born, Daddy-O, what up Math?
|
Mickey Mirrors, true blessings
|
For what, X Era
|
Takin it to the clear this year
|
|
{Myalansky}
|
Faggots nervous but it's time to dance with night strangers
|
Top rap don, cuz Daddy-O got me the dice game
|
It's reg or not, pockets love Trump Donald
|
Pack your work, move your plans to VA
|
Heat on the lock collar
|
Bite your fingerprints, make the cops nog you
|
98, wait, service applead, rated top dollar
|
Escape jake fakin plot alot hotter
|
Fake snakes smilin right in your face
|
Play this a lot smarter
|
|
{Joe Mafia}
|
Low avalanche, wobblely stance, ask for rain dance
|
We the same cats blazing your lab
|
Wu-Capone with a love jones, watch me son
|
Global with the local cats that's known trifted in the hell zone
|
Politic, modern Gotti click,
|
Just a matter of time before till Wu-Syndicate lock shit
|
How you stoppin, mega popular, modern mobster
|
Joe Mafia, Jay got me in bicolulars
|
|
{Myalansky}
|
Yo snatch run, shoot out, chicken nights how's nice
|
Rule out, silk low valley, Mafia crew house
|
Drink vine, moon shine wine, sip it, fool out
|
Rollin wit a burner no doubt, shorty school out
|
First of all, for the record, Scarface jail cats
|
Cultured by stretch it but name it, rather socialize
|
Eyes never lies, these guys tell me throwing forty Cali's stainless
|
Cuz these empty slugs spit pain, killer
|
|
{Joe Mafia}
|
Wylin on parole, so been on his rock
|
And Donny race spot it's way hot
|
Son of a spray lock
|
Them mistress said it grazed his neck
|
Collapsing over bar rooms, holding his wounds
|
Yo what the fuck can it take?
|
Brokin glass fallin all on my head
|
Head ringin like Cyrus from bitches screamin
|
Blood on my leg
|
|
{Myalansky}
|
Let me catch my breath glock appraise me
|
Feds chase me, toared my jabogs as I hopped the fence
|
Blood on my tongue taste it, son I was big off Remi
|
Even run to me, shorty run up in my spot, don't let
|
the clown kill me
|
High beam helicopter light flash through the blind
|
Cousin what a cat gon do, drippin a man's eye
|
Call down ya kids, smack the screamin bitch
|
Yo relax Myalansky, word it's that teeny snitch
|
|
{Joe Mafia}
|
What's the purpose, allerkin this search, street merchandist
|
Supeen service, here's dirt to cause the turbulence
|
With lip service, scape jay, down rob handcuff plant to his hand
|
The purchase of the yae yo, take a make though, it's blood money
|
Keep my hands muddy, rakin a lake ice with low money
|
Without a clue of what I wen't through
|
Plus been through, stressing the issue
|
Shell shocked, hidin the pistol
|
|
{Myalansky}
|
The next chapter from the Brooklyn Criminology
|
Should of bought my life in the business, catchin ??
|
We felony, keep tellin these cats get Bills like Bellamy
|
Empires get hit for their chips, you just follow me
|
Gravity, Myalansky, nigga fancy,
|
how real this could get when you're broke
|
Platinum down please, my fam scheme, fuck the po-po
|
Sayin 'do, Daddy-O, Joe Mafia, T-Bone,
|
Make Corleone rush like Phat Farm
|
strong armin withmax chrome
|
Cats know runnin the spot, claimin they clap though
|
Kidnap though, thrown to the hostage, I know this cat knew
|
Snap though, leavin them duct taped, glory was cancelled
|
It's pinzo, eleven o channel cut off his leg slow
|
He begged though, continued to throw it without info
|
Waterd down niggas be frontin, obviously bitch missed since 6 grade
|
Plottin on niggas, shinin their rich ways
|
Get switch bladed, bodies found decomposed, throwed in the ditch grave
|
Moms can't identify shit, was there for six weeks
|
With blood money, frontin out stick's peed
|
Quick way, fuck all the talkin this what my click say
|
Them bitch ate, sweeter than sugar pussy your dick faced
|
|
{Joe Mafia}
|
I answer this, many late nights, puffin on cancer sticks
|
On hell with this shit, sometimes I feel but I'm trapped in it
|
The x to the, amongst the projects with bang shooters
|
Hard rocks, skippin school to get their brains buddha'd
|
| Lame chicks, filthy ass fiends to want the same vicks |
