barrel taste when I let the hammer go [Verse 2] See the game is cold the strangers bold to make my temperature frigider Ain't no hide away you can die
too This DJ Khaled, We The Best Ayo Game. Red Nation [Chorus] All I know is bottles and rockin' J's Bottles and rockin' J's Bottles and rockin' J's Bottles and rockin
won't sing you no love song, you either love me Or you don't, you're either rollin' tonight or you won't She likes the style, 'cause it don't bullshit
hookin for hits like hoes skeezin Prostitutes that can't shoot, yet you clock loot Dancesteps with the weak styles, but you look cute Bitch, that shit's wack Let Hammer
fuck you want, Real niggas fuck with me and I don't give a fuck who don't, Lock the CEO up, And I'm the CEO fuck, Prison in February and I ain't in no
time) As they go singing by and by (Hallelujah time) Ooh, hallelujah singing in the morning (Singing, Hallelujah time) Let them sing, don't you let them cry (Over rocks
her let her sing a song D is for what I serve, I don't be on no curb She ain't no junkie neither, I ain't no dope dealer But she keep comin back three
dope fiends and hustlers But silence is golden, and the streets don't talk Don't let shit slide, 'cause beef don't walk We attack hoes, fuck a nigga
can't live, gotta go and get them g*** You know the hammers'll lose your cabbage, them dudes do damage Send Zulu Nation through Reaganomics, we move them package We pushing rain pain, gotta go
Yeah, D-Block Styles P, you wit me dog? Hell yeah, let's get 'em, yeah Let's go You get smacked with the hammer, nigga play your position 'Fore rigor
call you Jesus Christ boy, one Yeah, D-Block Styles P you wit me dog? Hell yeah, let's get 'em, let's go (Sheek Louch) You get smacked with the hammer
, I'm like new but I been here though Just low, I ain't drop and y'all wanting a show Book it, let the hood in and let me rock Bring the hardest niggaz
a couple M's every time I deposit Tell the young boys it ain't really nothin', it's lojik Stack whatever you get, don't spend, you got it On top of that
(Let's get ready to rumble) In this corner we have the funk body snatcher P Funkadelic and I gotcha hard enough That I can chew a whole bag of rocks Chew
out before we go up in your mouth KRS-One, yes my son Tweet tweet KRS-One, yes my son Tweet tweet, tweet You know they can't compete, ain't that right
gear, flickin' hundred dollar bills in the air Oh yeah, Cuban Link is into getting Benjamin's 'Cuz if doesn't make dollars, then it doesn't make sense
dash Radar detectors, troopers can't find us We bubble down atl and hit the 'linas Then get clubbed with some dirty south thugs Go all out thugs, go in
