A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #


"Our Way"

[Capone Talking] [Noreaga talking in background]
I want n*ggas to bang out to this sh*t
n*ggas drive drunk to this sh*t
Drive drunk to this (14x)
Drive drunk drive drunk (1x)

[Chorus: Capone-N-Noreaga]
We doing this our way (yeah motherf*cker we doing it our way now)
I think its our way, I think its our way
If you don't like it hit the highway
(hit the highway n*gga get the f*ck up outta here)
I think its our way, I think its our way
We doing this our way
(yeah yeah we doing it our way like its f*cking pose to be)
I think its our way, I think its our way
Til we hit hundred on the highway (five the six)

[Iman Thug]
Call me the black machine gun jack megern
Touching my good making sure the bast*rds learn
Smash the burn
No time for fronting its nothing
Gets yours while I get mine not nothing
We flows with the ratical
Tongue mathematical
Cut n*ggas bent up sh*t with dirty attitudes
That's the way the world go round and round
Henny, bud on our dome like pound for pound
Peep the grimist
We high profile locist
Thugged out 41st side smokers
Now who you know
Get down like us
Gats bust empty out rounds that gust
Can't stand overpaid ass
Fronting ass b*tch
Kicking to my n*ggas like they don't want di*k
Dirting in the club
While her man couple of a drinks
All my n*ggas in the V.I.P. doing our thing

Chorus (1x)
Yo money bust snaps for pocket
And I don't dance
I get head
And I don't even iron my pants
I got a dead steel
Why'all n*ggas ran with your legs still
I.ll make you lose calories without the treadmill

From New York but still I been hating the knicks
And f*ck jordan but still I be rocking his kicks
My n*gga Nas told me
Take your hoe to the flicks
And if she don't give you brain then you dodge the b*tch
We from Queens
The dro is like hard to get
We got to travel up to Harlem where its hot as sh*t
Yo its Melvin the african godfather
So yo god bother
You want to taste the revolver
I dead dun
I shot toe then run
Now stay motherf*cker give head to the gun
Stay on son
Itchy bon like number one
It's the QB album that us bless this dun

Chorus (1x)
I stand on the block
Fully baked hand on my c*ck
Old heads flirting saying I resemble my pops
I put work in
I'm the street in the sickest version
No crowd n*ggas collect my person to person
I buck right if my left hurting
I'm double jointed
Ducking the cops they stay searching
The elevators ain't working the steps too p*ssy
Thoro bread god son rep the bridge with me
I pull up in the S50 plus five
Let the thugs fly
Now everybody tough guys
Its murder in these blood eyes
Like I ain't got sh*t to live for
f*ck a thugs cry n*gga shoot that's why god put em here for
I been on the booze hit a buck on the highway
Been in my shoes
I'm thuggin rich make my own rules
Its time glory and pain I'm still with kane
I got O's dog for six fifties remember the name
Capone n*gga

Chorus (1x)
Ain't nothing but a Queens thing baby
Three bent n*ggas straight going crazy
Hennessy is the drink that fades me
Bang out to this sh*t baby (2x)

[All talking]

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

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