Everything I want, I bought
|
Fuck what you thought
|
Everything I want, I bought
|
Fuck what you thought
|
Time to bring New York back to life like
|
We riding all night like
|
Say I'm next on the mic like
|
Everything gonna go, go
|
|
They say New York is going through a crisis
|
They flow so-so, they know Frederico is the nicest
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Still in the streets with the blam
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I use long arms so you reach my demand
|
Talking about a terror alert
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I sell to whoever, whenever, whatever works
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See that bread that I knew, now Fred coming through
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Blood and crib walking 'cause she red, then I blew
|
I just got word J done retiring
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Right across the street the 9 mm is firing
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White kids wanna be firemen
|
But chain on a dope boy, to us, that's inspiring
|
Momma stood in the section 8 office
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She knew in my block it's my section 8 office
|
Your music why I'm hating you
|
You could be Biggie, son, still no faith in you
|
|
Everything I want, I bought
|
Fuck what you thought
|
Everything I want, I bought
|
Fuck what you thought
|
Time to bring New York back to life like
|
We riding all night like
|
Say I'm next on the mic like
|
Everything gonna go, go
|
|
I rap my ass off, spit your best rhyme
|
Louis, Skully,'show the fresh line
|
9/11 black Porsche hit the red line'
|
My feet up in Cabo
|
Load the planes, I'm keyed up like Pablo
|
This no fucking the streets up like potholes
|
New range bleed guts, the chalk charcoal
|
It's not a game but I dare you
|
I hear you the biggest Harlem names who I'm compared to
|
Just to stay in shape I move a square or two
|
And keep a lease to these ceiling, that's when I stay in coupes
|
I'm on Ciroc Almaretto, drive the fastest'till I crash with the Devil
|
I need a pass in the ghetto, squeezing Glocks with the metal
|
Keep a stash in my pillow, the other half with my fellows
|
|
Everything I want, I bought
|
Fuck what you thought
|
Everything I want, I bought
|
Fuck what you thought
|
Time to bring New York back to life like
|
We riding all night like
|
Say I'm next on the mic like
|
Everything gonna go, go
|
|
Fred the God, French on the mic
|
Vado want a verse, New York, what a love
|
I cash'I ghost ride, I pass words like a crow
|
Old time, we just got a new maid
|
Still move the pills, the prescription for the pay
|
Still move the grills, it's description what you made
|
Brick under six, see you later
|
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-----------------
|
Everything
|
| Fred The Godson |
