We Got Everything Dave East & Styles P

[Intro: Styles P]
My block, we got everything
Coke, dope, smoke pills
My block, we got everything
Bootleg phones, computers
My block, we got everything
Cars, hoes, cameras
My block, we got everything
Welfare cards, everything
Let's go

[Verse 1: Styles P]
He's on that East shit, yeah, specifically New York (Specifically)
Niggas know he rhyme well, but he don't like to talk
He don't like foul shit, and rap is like ball (Fact)
Hit you with the hawk if I ain't got the fourth
Hit you with the Gemstar if I ain't got the hawk
From the land of the lost, where we in and outta court
Shoot shit like it's a sport, niggas hustle from them shores
Keep the hammer in your parka, if you parked by the court
I'm on the back block, then it's layin' on the porch
'Cause I'm probably drunk as shit, when I'm sippin' on the quart
Lil' homie got the burner, and he'll let that shit scorch
We don't give a fuck, you would swear we was raised wrong
Momma did good, but I need that money yay-long
Homie got a key flip, homie got a lick line
All I need's a mask and a scale, I'ma get mine
Sittin' in that [?] six, lookin' big time, nigga