[Intro:Slaine] For the Georgetown bank robbers, this one’s for you. C’mon.
[Chorus:Ill Bill] I’mma rob a bank then I’mma bounce down south With a smile on my face and my gun in your mouth Stick up the dope man, y’all know what the fuck I’m about With a smile on my face and my gun in your mouth
Run your whole shit, stash box under the couch With a smile on my face and my gun in your mouth Run up in your momma’s house and air everyone out With a smile on my face and my gun in your mouth
[Verse 1:Slaine] Let’s smoke a bundle of embalming fluid Stick an armoured car up, I’mma climb into it All I need is an eightball and nine to do it I’ll put the fucking driver in the trauma unit I know some wannabes sloppy with keys With coke and cash in the crib, probably trees We’ll get em drunk, passed out then copy his keys Open his door, rope up his whore and then breeze I know the time for a robbery Is really long but it really doesn’t bother me I need to get rich, bitch cause I’m drug sick I got a mask, gloves, gun and a thug clique Fuck a pig cop faggot or a mob flick We get away clean, we’ll never be seen And this is the American dream So we fight for it, kill for it, whatever it means
[Chorus:]
[Verse 2:Everlast] [ La Coka Nostra Lyrics are found on www.songlyrics.com ] It’s the ironman with a nine in his hand Got my mind on the plan cause I grind for the fam Kick in the door waving the four-four Run the kush and the cash, get your ass on the floor Ties his hands behind his back with extension cords He was slipping backstage at the Source Awards I call DMS, you call EMS, FDNY, NYPD We get high committing strong-armed robberies Don’t matter if it’s crack, heroin, or trees When the gun’s in your face, you gonna open the safe Unless you really wanna know how a bullet’ll taste
[Chorus:]
[Verse 3:Ill Bill] I pull hammers like double aces, Desert Eagles in your fucking faces It’s Billy Crystal, the fucking greatest A really cool guy, run up on you shoot nines A fucking idiot, I ain’t afraid to do time Addicted to money, I ain’t afraid to do crime Addicted to pussy, X-rated with two dimes I fall asleep at night clutching the biscuit Hiding the kilo, the cocaine, and a bucket of chicken Listen, we big earners with big burners, a bunch of murderers Fuck a heater, I’ll beat you to death with furniture Throw chairs and tables, kitchen sinks, listen bitch We the shit, motherfucker this is it We the real thing, we bring Scorsese to reality I turn horrifying behaviour into salaries I jump out a helicopter and pop ya Run up by you while you’re in Burger King eating a Whopper [Chorus:]Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
