[Verse 1: Gravy] Dirty Money be a team, weed bricks and [?] beams Lambos and beamers, [?] In my borough we hold it down hotter than Phoenix I got a forty carat, count two bricks for forty thou Find me in St. Louis, you're blowin' on some kiki Tokin' [?], what's it to you? Nicki Minaj, she the future Fresh outta Jamaica, [?] suitcase with the paper Silencers to help you meet your maker No burial, cremator, we don't give 'em ultimatums My life is like Satan, even God couldn't save him I'm in the Chrysler on the highway racin' the Viper Scope with the beam hittin' niggas like sniper Clinton in Sing Sing, my comrads is lifers Hold your head up for all my niggas that's on Riker's To my Trinis and Guyanese, crew hold your lighters Ghostwrite for so much niggas I got arthritis I got the magic touch and I ain't talkin' 'bout Midas Divided companies, little weaklings minus the minors [?] a half a brick in her vagina And go down South to Carolina Come back up and flip pounds of marijuana Motherfuckers, truck full of llamas
[Hook∶ Gravy] So it has to be rat that we sold ya I got that purple with me ni***, let's roll up I got my gat with me, don't make me fold ya The hollow tips man, to kill you dojas So it has to be rat that we sold ya I got that purple with me ni***, let's roll up I got my gat with me, don't make me fold ya The hollow tips man, to kill you dojas
[Verse 2∶ Nicki Minaj] I used to be a effin' baby like Weezy Seen me with the ni*** Gravy, now they hate me Fuckin' with Minaj, lil mama, ain't the thang to do I been hot since your hat had a kangaroo And I keep a good bar, like a can of brew So it's Mrs. Goodbar, no thanks to you Fendi call the fight club, tell 'em that the match on Who the f*** I gotta done before they catch on? I'm the one bitch, I ain't never stutter The toast I'mma run with never need a butter Queens on the map, yeah, Queens is back First bitch to talk smack about Queens get yacked C'mon, I take trips out of town with bricks Got surveillance on the whips, they behind the six But I got the kind of face that will make the J Say alright, lil mama, I'mma get you a break Then I set up shop where they coppin' them thangs Gotta to keep the hidden cam on top of the range I'm the head honcho, get work from papi And dead pancho, couldn't ID the body So they said John Doe, got hit up with the shotty And his Bed-Stuy ho
[Hook∶ Gravy] So it has to be rat that we sold ya I got that purple with me ni***, let's roll up I got my gat with me, don't make me fold ya The hollow tips man, to kill you dojas So it has to be rat that we sold ya I got that purple with me ni***, let's roll up I got my gat with me, don't make me fold ya The hollow tips man, to kill you dojasTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
