Uhhhh...
Paper Platoon...
Yeah...
Uh
Ey' where's your crew hang, we Wu-Tang, we boot camp, you the Hanson Brothers
Hit your fam up with a ransom number, thirty-four dollars a blast street runner
You trash heap stunner bro, pretty whip pushin. brand new hundred spokes
Still I hit any bitch, in the tits, with her kids, in the crib
Give a shit about another ho up in my shit, we slanging
We got guns, guns, guns, guns, we slangin'
We got guns, guns, guns, guns, we slangin'
Uh, I heard that Charlie hacked your bank account
So I'm leaning on my couch, I snort a half an ounce
Sneeze white, man my nose could cause an avalanche
Blow dat out, man I told these cats to listen
I'm Tyson bitches I'm champion, I'm like...
I'm Sonny Liston, I'm Jack Dempsey. There's no one like me. I'm from their cloth. There's no one that can match me. My style is impetuous, my defense is impregnable, and I'm just ferocious. I want your heart. I want to eat his children
(Let's get his money man, blaow, blaaoow)
