[Intro: Islord]
Aiyyo, let me tell y'all niggas somethin'
One thing, let me tell y'all niggas somethin'
I don't give a, flyin' fuck about
None of y'all niggas out here
None of y'all niggas out here
Cause you ain't, none of my motherfuckin' comrades
I don't give a, flyin' fuck, what?
You want it? Bring it son, bring it son
Bring it, yo, check it on out

[Ndira: talking over Islord above]
Bobby, como puede ser que me jodistes?
Hijo de puta
[?] el coño de mi, maricon
Y nunca me llamas, Roberto
You treat me like an analog ho

[Verse 1: Islord]
Yo, lyrically, I got all y'all niggas under my wing
'Cause I bring terror throughout this rap era
Like them Muslim cats, who don't give a fuck
About blowin' this rock, off the map
Where Mayor Guiliani rest at, so let me get that
Microphone up off of you 'cause it's
Definitely not meant for you to have it in your palm
To try to rock the crowd, puttin' it all on to stay calm
You waited for the god Islord to drop the bomb
And swarm the stage about a hundred fat
With lyrical material that's all that
Like a two point five carat clustered jew-el
Rock like Patti La-Belle
'Cause everything is real kid, you dead up
Dissect the true kids gettin' set up
For a car/Jeep heist, it ain't nice
As we ran up in the crib and stuck the kid
And smacked the wife 'cause she had on two chains
With a tray full of ice in 'em
But that's how it goes down when you livin in the Cold World
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