[00:00.00] 作词 : Gary Grice/Robert Diggs
[00:00.15] 作曲 : Gary Grice/Robert Diggs
[00:00.30]Aiyo shorty, yo that's my word
[00:03.26]Oh, y'all smelling y'all piss now y'all think y'all gold
[00:05.32]Yo anybody get caught flinging over here
[00:07.81]I'm returning 'em, that's my word they getting blasted
[00:10.13]Anything from 220 to 140, that's mine
[00:12.87]Y'all need to step the **** off
[00:14.41]Y'all mother****ers ain't crazy for real
[00:16.09]
[00:17.34]Yo, the fiends ain't coming fast enough
[00:20.08]There is no cut that's pure enough
[00:22.64]I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
[00:25.23]Product must be sold to you
[00:27.19]
[00:27.76]I'm deep down in the back streets, in the heart of Medina
[00:30.45]About to set off something more deep than a misdemeanor
[00:33.35]Under the subway, waiting for the train to make noise
[00:36.36]So I can blast a ***** and his boys,for what?
[00:39.00]He pushed up on the block and made the shit sales drop
[00:41.35]Like the crash in the Dow Jones stock
[00:43.72]I had a connect to cross-sales, to catch more mill's
[00:46.75]Than ho-ass niggas got birth control pills
[00:48.77]I'm in the park setting up a deal over blunt fire
[00:51.77]Bum ***** sleeping on the bench, they had him wired
[00:54.51]Peeped my convo, the address of my condo
[00:57.39]And how I changed a ***** name to John Doe
[00:59.53]And while we set up camp, we got vamped
[01:01.98]Put the stake through his heart, I ripped his ****ing fangs apart
[01:04.54]Snake got smoked on the set like Brandon Lee
[01:07.44]Blown out the frame like Pan Am Flight 103
[01:10.13]He got swung on, his lungs was torn
[01:12.22]A kingpin just castled with his rook and lost a pawn
[01:14.81]A regular on the block that played lookout
[01:17.81]For preying predator with a Glock, he should have took out
[01:20.40]
[01:21.05]No neighbourhood is rough enough
[01:22.72]There is no clip that's full enough
[01:25.15]I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
[01:27.74]Product must be sold to you
[01:30.40]Fiends ain't coming fast enough
[01:33.15]There is no cut that's pure enough
[01:35.89]I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
[01:38.22]Product must be sold to you
[01:40.36]
[01:40.88]It's mandatory that I supply all my troops with mega firearms
[01:43.54]Big apes and spread 'em out like crops on a farm
[01:46.16]To get cream, sometimes they repaint the scene
[01:48.72]Like the last episode on gates, and other mother****ers
[01:51.49]Plant bombs till the smoke from the blast becomes thick
[01:54.07]And flows through, all they knew, he's gun sick
[01:56.68]His Glock clicks like high-heeled shoes on parquet floors
[01:59.61]Mad sick, stand on hills and invade wars
[02:02.14]Filthy foul, shovelling dirt, he's out to hurt
[02:05.28]For instance, chop off hands, attack worth
[02:07.32]His idols would lock down airports and extort
[02:09.72]Some import, catching ten percent of what the fiends snort
[02:12.72]Up in the ski resorts, up in hills
[02:14.92]They move keys and had the skis making drops on snowmobiles
[02:17.56]The plan was to expand, catch seven figures, release triggers
[02:20.66]And live large and bigger than my dick
[02:22.81]Who promised his moms a mansion with mad room
[02:25.34]She died and he still put a hundred grand in her tomb
[02:28.03]Open wounds, he hid behind closed doors
[02:30.64]And still organizes crime and drug wars
[02:33.31]
[02:33.75]Fiends ain't coming fast enough
[02:35.79]There is no cut that's pure enough
[02:38.17]I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
[02:40.78]Product must be sold to you
[02:42.92]No neighborhood is rough enough
[02:46.26]There is no clips that's full enough
[02:48.69]I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
[02:51.31]Product must be sold to you
[02:54.13]There's no cuffs that's tight enough
[02:56.48]There is no rapper that's ****ing with us
[02:59.19]I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
[03:01.73]Product must be sold to you

作词 : Gary Grice/Robert Diggs
作曲 : Gary Grice/Robert Diggs
Aiyo shorty, yo that's my word
Oh, y'all smelling y'all piss now y'all think y'all gold
Yo anybody get caught flinging over here
I'm returning 'em, that's my word they getting blasted
Anything from 220 to 140, that's mine
Y'all need to step the **** off
Y'all mother****ers ain't crazy for real
Yo, the fiends ain't coming fast enough
There is no cut that's pure enough
I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
Product must be sold to you
I'm deep down in the back streets, in the heart of Medina
About to set off something more deep than a misdemeanor
Under the subway, waiting for the train to make noise
So I can blast a ***** and his boys,for what?
He pushed up on the block and made the shit sales drop
Like the crash in the Dow Jones stock
I had a connect to cross-sales, to catch more mill's
Than ho-ass niggas got birth control pills
I'm in the park setting up a deal over blunt fire
Bum ***** sleeping on the bench, they had him wired
Peeped my convo, the address of my condo
And how I changed a ***** name to John Doe
And while we set up camp, we got vamped
Put the stake through his heart, I ripped his ****ing fangs apart
Snake got smoked on the set like Brandon Lee
Blown out the frame like Pan Am Flight 103
He got swung on, his lungs was torn
A kingpin just castled with his rook and lost a pawn
A regular on the block that played lookout
For preying predator with a Glock, he should have took out
No neighbourhood is rough enough
There is no clip that's full enough
I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
Product must be sold to you
Fiends ain't coming fast enough
There is no cut that's pure enough
I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
Product must be sold to you
It's mandatory that I supply all my troops with mega firearms
Big apes and spread 'em out like crops on a farm
To get cream, sometimes they repaint the scene
Like the last episode on gates, and other mother****ers
Plant bombs till the smoke from the blast becomes thick
And flows through, all they knew, he's gun sick
His Glock clicks like high-heeled shoes on parquet floors
Mad sick, stand on hills and invade wars
Filthy foul, shovelling dirt, he's out to hurt
For instance, chop off hands, attack worth
His idols would lock down airports and extort
Some import, catching ten percent of what the fiends snort
Up in the ski resorts, up in hills
They move keys and had the skis making drops on snowmobiles
The plan was to expand, catch seven figures, release triggers
And live large and bigger than my dick
Who promised his moms a mansion with mad room
She died and he still put a hundred grand in her tomb
Open wounds, he hid behind closed doors
And still organizes crime and drug wars
Fiends ain't coming fast enough
There is no cut that's pure enough
I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
Product must be sold to you
No neighborhood is rough enough
There is no clips that's full enough
I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
Product must be sold to you
There's no cuffs that's tight enough
There is no rapper that's ****ing with us
I can't fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
Product must be sold to you