[Verse 1: T.F]
Garlic butter on the crab legs got 'em sentimental
Heavy tinted windows doin' pirouettes with a demon in it
Had an oriental, had to get her on the instrumental
She had to hit the track, first trap ain't no looking back
Masked up like I'm cooking meth, I'm like Iron Man back in '96
And when it comes to beef I'm with it every season, I'm the Iron Chef
I was 15, I seen a marble floor inside a Pyrex
Whatchu know about a couple Snapple bottles for the sherm sticks?
Drive-bys out of Thunderbirds, did it acapellas, niggas know the word
Niggas know the vibe, you niggas nerds, you don't know the curb
Got a bad bitch and she play the 'burbs
And she be dipped out, had to ask if she be selling gurb, word to 2 Eleven
MAC-11 match the black Amiris, spiral bullets made him backpedal
Turned his Cadillac into roadkill, cause his trunk had a couple racks in it
LordMobb we the front runners, made men, mad bitches
This for the niggas hatin', ya'll niggas pussy: mad bitches
Nine milly made her spine tingle, fine china bring the lines with it
Quarter piece I let the dimes hit it, now they layin' up, like they Rod Strickland
Ain't no business like mob business, waking up to a cup of Folgers and brand new set of side bitches
I'ma bounce back and I'ma dive in it
Niggas never pictured livin' through it, fast forward now we gettin' to it
Yeah the lick Jewish, made the wrist Cuban, and that bitch hitting like it's Ray Lewis
We in the Hidden Hills, probably crushing pills, bustin' all night watching SNL
With the happy ending like fairy tales, Chinese with the rusty shells
Test lot, we finna break 'em in, if it don't bust his head, I bet I break his leg
Made the breaking news, bandana like Omega Red
Back to pirouettes, wrist shinin' like mirror tint
50 pointers like pyramids, airheads I can care less
You niggas pressure cases, all airbags
I was airin' shit and I ain't wear a mask
Pulled up with a pair of bags, raw cass, sacs 5th ave
Hair-trigger on a colt pony, gave a nigga wrist whiplash
Garlic butter on the crab legs got 'em sentimental
Heavy tinted windows doin' pirouettes with a demon in it
Had an oriental, had to get her on the instrumental
She had to hit the track, first trap ain't no looking back
Masked up like I'm cooking meth, I'm like Iron Man back in '96
And when it comes to beef I'm with it every season, I'm the Iron Chef
I was 15, I seen a marble floor inside a Pyrex
Whatchu know about a couple Snapple bottles for the sherm sticks?
Drive-bys out of Thunderbirds, did it acapellas, niggas know the word
Niggas know the vibe, you niggas nerds, you don't know the curb
Got a bad bitch and she play the 'burbs
And she be dipped out, had to ask if she be selling gurb, word to 2 Eleven
MAC-11 match the black Amiris, spiral bullets made him backpedal
Turned his Cadillac into roadkill, cause his trunk had a couple racks in it
LordMobb we the front runners, made men, mad bitches
This for the niggas hatin', ya'll niggas pussy: mad bitches
Nine milly made her spine tingle, fine china bring the lines with it
Quarter piece I let the dimes hit it, now they layin' up, like they Rod Strickland
Ain't no business like mob business, waking up to a cup of Folgers and brand new set of side bitches
I'ma bounce back and I'ma dive in it
Niggas never pictured livin' through it, fast forward now we gettin' to it
Yeah the lick Jewish, made the wrist Cuban, and that bitch hitting like it's Ray Lewis
We in the Hidden Hills, probably crushing pills, bustin' all night watching SNL
With the happy ending like fairy tales, Chinese with the rusty shells
Test lot, we finna break 'em in, if it don't bust his head, I bet I break his leg
Made the breaking news, bandana like Omega Red
Back to pirouettes, wrist shinin' like mirror tint
50 pointers like pyramids, airheads I can care less
You niggas pressure cases, all airbags
I was airin' shit and I ain't wear a mask
Pulled up with a pair of bags, raw cass, sacs 5th ave
Hair-trigger on a colt pony, gave a nigga wrist whiplash
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