"O, most of the time, yo, I'm flicked up Stepping out the crib like I'm sixed up, don't get it mixed up Even if I'm shaking your hand, I'm still gripped up With two spots left, yeah, we still bricked up Trees pine, gleem no seed, young boys feeling they self, they must be on E's Me? I stay outted out, boating on oceans He banging my old chick, and he mad open Think I smell the goons, they been business since the Tunnel days Shanks out, they ready to move Somebody yelled out 'ballin' In two seconds, lord, they was up on 'em That voice, should of slowed down, baby Now what we gon' tell his lady Jaw on the floor, looking all crazy A lot of vicks been going down in here, lately In 2012, the DJ is still recognized as the crowd controller The record breaking, keep the bottles popping and all the ass shaking [Chorus] It's that Wu shit, it's that movement It's the Wu shit, in the house Yo, should I talk about all the jewels I wore on my neck While you had to tuck your little shit in out of respect I'm a done, rebel out of Staten Island projects I dare y'all to come in my projects Leave with no head, no neck You thought I was Flex, the way I bombed the set In the hallway, banger house, smelling like cake Tongueing bitches down, most of them got scraped Watch how I move the crowd, I'm a make 'em, make 'em clap to this No shit, no doubt Two shots of Hennessey, ladies want Goose Earlier them fronting niggas, now they want a truce Mami got a bubble in her Jimmy Choo shoe When I go and kick it, she's a goodie two-shoe? Yeah, right, daddy got bread Like J. Holiday, I wanna put you to bed Tell me your girlfriends, kicks, don't let it go to your head Walking around in your cheap ass threads Get away from me, stinky [Chorus] Yeah, yo, I spit lines from the rubble room Bottom line, I kick mines, like a mother's womb I'm, still in my prime, fuck them other dudes No biting's the rule, but we can eat each others food Flash a camera at the all time great Single handing increase New York's crime rate That's why I love it in the Empire State The city where your fat ass can still find weight But y'all ain't getting it, the game is different And in the recession, a lot of veterans is quitting it Every day I'm living it, your boy got blunts Fighting after school, a lot of y'all got jumped Staten Island, bro, ratchet under my coat, potato salads so And we silencing that, just every day challenge us Check a nigga out of respect, I'm spectacular, this the Massacre
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