[Hook] Y'all critics got a lot of nerve Crab disease got the game muffled A new king has emerged I'm him to the third
[Verse 1] Look since a young boy choking MC's with mic chords When the night hits ball courts turn into dice boards Got illegal two-ways instead of cell phones Sixer fans switch to Clipper fans whenever L's home Grew up in a foul hood, most of my childhood A 9 to 5 couldn't get you the dough that vowels could You know the streets brain washed me, play the game harshly Drug dealers slang where the narks be Make a sound to the cops and get found in the lot Everybody come in town when you're hot Nobody comes around when you're not Always keep the round in the crouch Whenever me and family decide to lounge on the block Quick to pull it out if a clown get us hot Seeing bullets fire from chrome, the sight of my dome Standing on the block with dice and wireless phones Y'all know the name, Ali Vegas and got divine right to the throne
[Hook]
[Verse 2] Ayo Niggas know I spit dangerously That's why wherever I go they all call me Dangerous Lee I don't care if we chill together you ain't hanging with me This is for all my thugs thugging, keep banging your three All my hustlers keep clubbing slanging yo E Six brought my first bar, eight got brains in the V You young cats ain't got morals no more Quick to go to war with the four Get knocked and tell it all to the law Whatever happened to hustling, running out product and putting in an order for more This how I'ma read them the new rule I'm like Busta 9-2 Cause now I'm the leader of new school They say I'm too young to rhyme about coke I got a father that sniffed it A brother that pitched it A cousin that flipped it And that's for all y'all critics that wanna know why the rhyming's so dope
[Hook]
[Verse 3] Look I'm the young Prince of NY Young, fly, sensible guy All white T and air Ni-kes When the temperature's hot Old A's the only way I'm getting sent to the sky Y'all permitted to try But it's only one thing, if you miss it then you die And it ain't no judge and jury, the commence'll get fired Just my team in a tinted rented NY Y'all heard Jada, it's a message in a bullet, Good-bye Should have been spitting shells instead of palming your celly It ain't no more shells, Beyonce's, and Kelly's When lead hit yo leg, head, arm, and your belly I know y'all say damn I'm so calm, but I'm deadly Pull up to the prom or the telly Hopped out the Serbians Looking suburban, chicks swarming the Chevy Associates is the staff of The Don Vegas is back, but this time I ran and mastered my charm
[Hook]Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
