Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
Just got off the jack with my son that's up north
Tellin me he's comin home, and how he's gettin off
''cause his game was weak, killed two months, he's back in the streets
With new plans, to expand, to jerk his mans man
We had the ultimate stick up, drop, on the brick pick up
But yo he can't, ''cause he's still locked up
Jump back on the horn ''cause his vibe was strong
Contacted the kid and told him lets be gone
I talked to Poet first, yo son, I got a mish-shon
Grab the ammunnish-shon, pump up your pythons
I know a spot where niggas gettin it, and we can flip on
Son they frustrate me, ''cause these niggas pump with no heat
They play the night time sweet, like they can't get beat
I got their address, to where they rest and stash their shit
Yo, I peeped it out how we can creep, yo yo yo
These niggas stay sleep
Makin sales, smokin out, and they all get ?geeked?
Lets catch 'em zoning, brain under, high and headed home and
When they least expect it, lets put the gat to his dome
He stuck the key in the door, we ??? four four
We pushed our way in, we wasn't playin
Ready to spray 'em, tied him down to the A.M.
Now we layin, for a beamer, and some bitch named Fatima
Chorus: Prince AD
Communicate for the cake, polly for weight outta state
Down on digits on the Isle with son we can't be late
We got moves to make, flood the whole New York state
Time to skate to other lands to put food on our plate
Communicate for the cake, polly for weight outta state
Down on digits on the Isle with son we can't be late
We got moves to make, flood the whole New York state
Time to skate to other lands to put food on our plate
Now we travel with the ?Crills Rock?
P, Noyd, Onslaught on the hottest road with a car load'a shit
Isolated on ya whip, on the south I-95, lightin off and more drive
?Diggy with the seats sung?
half a pie in the trunk with the music blastin
Clouds of smoke, yo this lifes no joke
We from QB son, we ain't tryin to be broke
We makin moves to where the money's at, get it up and bring it back
New cats the boogie OT knew how to work it
Get the money, couldn't keep it ''cause they jerked it
Bad habits, livin lavish, rockin front and cabbage
Tyrin to follow the leader, but paul paid for peter
The dirty south ain't the place to sign, son keep ya heat up
I'm from NY, city slicker, beat'choo with the G quicker
Business so well I'll have your towns clientelle
Kyron but me on through the cell, my OT
Get that brick money son, I'll meet you back in QB
See we flee off, know how to gee off, know how to eat off
Know how to make moves so we can keep the heat off
See we prefer to skate, to get this food on our plate
And keep our name low key on this New York state
You know how ?rule? quiet is kept, lets get this money fool
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Copy to Clipboard: Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
Just got off the jack with my son that's up north
Tellin me he's comin home, and how he's gettin off
''cause his game was weak, killed two months, he's back in the streets
With new plans, to expand, to jerk his mans man
We had the ultimate stick up, drop, on the brick pick up
But yo he can't, ''cause he's still locked up
Jump back on the horn ''cause his vibe was strong
Contacted the kid and told him lets be gone
I talked to Poet first, yo son, I got a mish-shon
Grab the ammunnish-shon, pump up your pythons
I know a spot where niggas gettin it, and we can flip on
Son they frustrate me, ''cause these niggas pump with no heat
They play the night time sweet, like they can't get beat
I got their address, to where they rest and stash their shit
Yo, I peeped it out how we can creep, yo yo yo
These niggas stay sleep
Makin sales, smokin out, and they all get ?geeked?
Lets catch 'em zoning, brain under, high and headed home and
When they least expect it, lets put the gat to his dome
He stuck the key in the door, we ??? four four
We pushed our way in, we wasn't playin
Ready to spray 'em, tied him down to the A.M.
Now we layin, for a beamer, and some bitch named Fatima
Chorus: Prince AD
Communicate for the cake, polly for weight outta state
Down on digits on the Isle with son we can't be late
We got moves to make, flood the whole New York state
Time to skate to other lands to put food on our plate
Communicate for the cake, polly for weight outta state
Down on digits on the Isle with son we can't be late
We got moves to make, flood the whole New York state
Time to skate to other lands to put food on our plate
Now we travel with the ?Crills Rock?
P, Noyd, Onslaught on the hottest road with a car load'a shit
Isolated on ya whip, on the south I-95, lightin off and more drive
?Diggy with the seats sung?
half a pie in the trunk with the music blastin
Clouds of smoke, yo this lifes no joke
We from QB son, we ain't tryin to be broke
We makin moves to where the money's at, get it up and bring it back
New cats the boogie OT knew how to work it
Get the money, couldn't keep it ''cause they jerked it
Bad habits, livin lavish, rockin front and cabbage
Tyrin to follow the leader, but paul paid for peter
The dirty south ain't the place to sign, son keep ya heat up
I'm from NY, city slicker, beat'choo with the G quicker
Business so well I'll have your towns clientelle
Kyron but me on through the cell, my OT
Get that brick money son, I'll meet you back in QB
See we flee off, know how to gee off, know how to eat off
Know how to make moves so we can keep the heat off
See we prefer to skate, to get this food on our plate
And keep our name low key on this New York state
You know how ?rule? quiet is kept, lets get this money fool
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