Rude Boy Hip Hop Styles P (Ft. Raheem DeVaughn)

[Chorus: Raheem DeVaughn]
That 187 when the ghost on spree
I like the toy rappers run for cover tonight
It's 187 when the lights on spree
It's that rude boy hip hop, New York shit that you like

[Verse 1: Styles P]
Vocals out of the windpipe is giving you insight
Real New York nigga, that's word to the pin stripes
Can't fly the kite less the wind right
Blow the city up then skip on that Jeremy Lin light
Yeah, I'm a shooter like Glen Rice
Long range and the Range the color of corn
Watching the Bull game
Like bird in the garden with the leprechauns
Everything is money, upper echelon
Cheaper than the food in a Chinese restaurant
On the corner in the hood
They come to body a man, you'd warn them if you could
If you can't you body them niggas and leave 'em in the woods
Faith before favor, lighten our senses since Scarface here
Niggas will kill your family for Scarface bread
I'm on suicide dough, SP, the ghost on coast with no strap flow
What up

[Chorus: Raheem DeVaughn]
That 187 when the ghost on spree
I like the toy rappers run for cover tonight
It's 187 when the lights on spree
It's that rude boy hip hop, New York shit that you like