Yeah...
Yeah...
One-Two
Yeah
He got the Derringer, he got the fifth
He got the Panama, he got the piff
He like an animal, he got the gill
He with the Sufis, and he with a beard
He in his mental and physical prime
He moving weight, it's not nickels and dimes
He like a DAT in a digital time
Aleister Crowley and ritual rhyme
Demons and nephilim virtual dream
That is a part of the personal thing
That dummy give you a verse for a bing
That dummy dirty he work with the fiends
You doin' nothing I'm licking a shot
You ain't got nothing you piss in a pot
You be in a lift and I be in the drop
I be with my family, you be with an opp
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Woah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Woah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Woah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Woah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Woah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Woah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Woah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Woah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Woah
You been in hiding we went to your house
You ran up the stairs and you left from your couch
You knew he was there just to dent in your mouth
You look like a rat but you dead like a mouse
I was in county I went for the ride
Hopped in the whip and attempted to slide
Used to be peace but the sentiment died
You was a thief and the rest of you died
He getting money he borrowed like bocce
He moving keys just like he Liberace
He nice with the hands but he good with the shotty
The new projectile gonna rip through your body
Out here in Philly it's cold and it's dark
Nobody smilin' and nobody talk
Nine out of ten will be holding a hawk
Twenty years later and who would've thought
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Woah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Woah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Woah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Woah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Woah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Woah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Woah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Woah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Woah
