[Paris - Verse 1] I string ‘em along with some acoustic guitar shit Tell ‘em park it in front of Neiman Marcus I need that, I need that When we gon chill, where the weed at, the weed at? Said you got a Spider, where them keys at? Them keys at? Living on em, shitted on em I’m hotter than the sauna, pull off in a Zonda Calm yourself before you get dealt with Had the medics working on your pelvis DOA there’s nothing left to say Went down like an hourglass Paris 1st class regardless Fake bitches not responsive Me, I’m in the streets rocking a piece that’s retarded In the diamond district with Jacob Making loads, you little cons wanna save up
[Hook - 50 Cent] We come from Queens where we are taught to handle beef on our own You call up cops, we get it poppin, we be out with the chrome Where Brooklyn at? Where the Bronx at? Where Harlem at? Where Statan at? Where Brooklyn at? Where the Bronx at? Where Harlem at? Where Yonkers at?
[Paris - Verse 2] All my men is caked up, stingy with the snatch Cause niggas get too attached Sleep with the ratchet under the mattress Natural, my cat got a 5 o’clock shadow It don’t matter cause niggas is still mad at you Chicks is getting fucked I’m on top, that’s how I bop, luxury every stop Eat it or beat it, you should already know my friend You’re not needed: next nigga remix Word to everything on some G shit Fuck with me, give me a reason Feel something hot, change the whole season For the greater good, make you fix your demons It’s the loca, caramel mocha Bitches is on their sofa, I’m taking over You now rocking with the best mama Bombshell hood hottie in the egg-shell Bugatti, oh!
[Hook]
[50 Cent - Verse 3] Ease on em, squeeze on em Move, dump the .22, three’s on ‘em Breeze on ‘em, lit the trees on ‘em In the bandanna, make ‘em think it’s gang-related
We on that gritty shit, the city shit New York New York You come through on some pretty shit Get outlined in chalk I get busy, I get busy, I’m strapped now I’m tryna say I want you motherf-ckers to act out I had that ass sprintin’ towards the door when I back out Don’t do it, don’t you do it Don’t make me stick to you Holy moly, ya Rolly, icy oyster perpetual Diamonds blinking like ass, take a look at it I’m a regular bad man, they say I’m a mad man Fuck a mask and gloves I let it on bare hands We come from a war zone, them Southside streetsTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
