New York Shit Sheek Louch (Ft. Fat Joe & Havoc)

[Intro: Sheek Louch]
Hahaha
Ah, man

[Verse 1: Sheek Louch]
I got a nine on my waistline
I ain't thinkin’ 'bout you bitch ass niggas no more
You could help a nigga out, he gon' still talk shit
And turn around and want more
I ain’t thinkin' 'bout you (Get the fuck up out my face)
I ain't thinkin' 'bout you (When the last time we talked?)
I ain't thinkin' ’bout you (Nah, I ain’t need your number)
I ain't thinkin’ 'bout you (Monkeys out, nigga)
No more
Fuck around and get hit up (Facts)
Mom prayin' like, "Please, baby, get up" (Get up [?])
Niggas see your wounds, turn around and spit up
I ain't playin’, Donnie came to fuck shot up, shyeah
This is that raw shit, New York
Winter time in front of the store, shit
Burnin' my weed with a stashbox real close (What up, nigga?)
Ear to the street, my lyrics, you could feel a pulse (Feel a pulse)
Put your glass up, let's have a toast (Salute)
Twenty years in this game, me, Kiss, and Ghost (L-O-X)
We stay away from them corny rappers that do the most
Gangstas, our careers ain't even close (Shyeah)