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feat. Tony Yayo
Yeah, F-50
As times go by, I twist a lot
Fuck with me and my niggas, somebody gonna die
You think I'm all poinry, cause you see me gettin' high
But my knife, I'll have yo ass seein' out one eye
As times go by, I twist a lot
Fuck with me and my niggas, somebody gonna die
You think I'm all poinry, cause you see me gettin' high yeah
But my knife, I'll have yo ass seein' out one eye
740 I, with the brand new shake uh huh
Got me pissin' on hoes like the R. Kelly tape
If you see me in the club, nothin' but Cris poppin' yeah
See me in court, my lawyers plea bargainin' woo
Tryin' to turn a 3 to 6, to a 2 to 4 uh huh
Or 1 to 3, for an extra G
RIP to Etho, I miss Hevo
When I die, I hope heaven look like the ghetto yeah
Picture me trick, and take a loss
I'm cheap like the Chinese man with duck sauce
This Tony homey, I walk around with a big chrome
9 L's will hit ya passenger, hit ya driver
G-Unit, you don't know a fuckin' clique liver
You heard my nigga, you don't know a fuckin' clique liver
As times go by, I twist a lot
Fuck with me and my niggas, somebody gonna die yeah
You think I'm all poinry, cause you see me gettin' high uh huh
But my knife, I'll have yo ass seein' out one eye eye
As times go by, I twist a lot
Fuck with me and my niggas, somebody gonna die
You think I'm all poinry, cause you see me gettin' high
But my knife, I'll have yo ass seein' out one eye
I never mix money and product with my friends uh huh
These chips, make relationships come to an end what
I pull the graveyard shift, gettin' money non-stop uh huh
And been on the block, ever since bunny tops c'mon
250 grizzies, scrape the plate scrape that plate
Got me on 750's straight from the plate straight from the plate
You can call on your soldiers, call your recruits uh huh
I do you dirty like Raheem did Dirty is "Juice" Juice
Allow myself, to introduce myself
This is Tony, the talk of New York, I'm holdin' the belt
I got thug in my blood blood, game like a pimp pimp
And wrote my first verse, takin' baths in the sink yeah
And yo I fear no man son, I never heard of a fair one
Never gotta borrow a handgun
Niggas on the street, gettin' smoked like bran son
So I stay dirty like "Sanford and Son" yeah
Groupies gossipin' stay runnin' their lips woo
Cause they seen the Gucci seats in the 6 uh huh
And seen the Fendi grips on the four fifth what
Shit, I sell bricks, shit, I sell shit on a stick stick
Enough of the talkin', let's take it to the valance uh huh
The New York streets, will leave you physically challenged challenged
Don't be surprised, If I spit at you
Then come to your wake, and serve fiends at your funeral
Our bread is goin' towards a brick of dope
Cause I've been goin' hand and hand since "Different Strokes"
I'm a 50, an eighth, you a half a blunt
You the nigga in the mirror that practice stunts
WHAT!
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