Tom: F# minor
Intro 1
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Verse 1
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Jewels is heavy, bet every penny
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Go against us, you'll get buried
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Get a drum or some,
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watch these brothers come correct
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Take shit from none of them,
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make hits like run ning them
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From the Bronx where these nosy hoes be
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I rep New York like Pat Ewing,
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Sean and Cali like Kobe
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Address every issue like my bitch do
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And drop bombs like Terry Nichols
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GD is the set, the rep,
and make it official
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Whack niggas with high beats,
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I should take it and diss you
My format is like making a pistol
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Bust it and reload it, bitches suck it and
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I called this bluff and he folded
and rock perms like Sharpton
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He's a way to gauge a
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Me and Mike Myers, tight like pli ers
And like Midas, I got the touch
And after the show,
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I got the fuck, you dirty
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we be all up in your shit, son
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You actin' like you can't get it
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It's D -E -E -N -M -I -T
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Ayo, you want want some, get some.
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The four of us, we be all up in your shit,
son.
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You acting like you can't get it
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It's GD and White Mike in your system.
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Yo, I'm the mad one with a magnum.
I blast some.
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I lead the rest with ransom.
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Skills you have none, I have some.
I have plenty, you ask any.
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You see that, you wanna kiss me
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and they'll tell you, dawg,
you ain't even got a chance.
My vocal tone alone
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Hypnotic, I get to jumping
like hydraulics.
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Keepin' them highly chronic,
nigga, who want it?
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you get haunted like October 31st
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And make him never pick up a mic again
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MCs bite like Tyson an
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d get suspended
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And it'll be a year before
they fight again
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Then when I ask if they'll fight again
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Say they went through counseling
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so they can pick up a mic again
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Mike Myers and A .G. saw a gravy
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Out for them dead presidents like J .C.
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Ayo, you want some, get some
we be all up in your shit, son
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You acting like you can't get it
and you get done
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It's GD and Mike Micahs
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Ayo, you want some, get some
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The four of us,
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we be all up in your shit, son
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You acting like you can't get it
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It's GD and Mike Micahs
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Notice the pose by my dick, nigga
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This shit be realer than jail life
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Straight torture make a nigga yell twice
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I reminisce on dead peeps,
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Instead of toasting it up,
I break the wine glass
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That's my nine blasts,
for the lost soul I spit
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Code of the strip, Moe is the sip,
and Doe is the flip
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I heard the bird flock,
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Bitch, you gotta fuck the crew,
cause you the hoe on the clip
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Me an d Mike Myers,
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choke niggas with Spike YSGD
y 'all niggas be tight, quiet
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Y 'all funny, 20 bars is car money
but your skills is far from me
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we get dirty with y 'all bummy
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Clothes all bummy, nose all money
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I hit you in the chest
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with this faux faux money
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Fuck tricking, these pigeons
get no dope from me
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Typed up, murder your family,
then bleed insanity
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My man's in me wild and I'm fantasy out,
we plannin'
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Yo, you want some, get some
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we be all up in your shit, son
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You actin' like you can't get it
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why does get your clique hung?
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Yo, you want some, get some
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The four of us,
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we be all up in your shit, son
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You actin' like you can't get it
and you get done
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It's G -E -N -Y -Y for your system
Outro 1
Yo
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O que você achou da música?
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