[Intro: Shyheim (Dom Pachino)]
Uh, yeah, I got this...
Uh, yeah, my God, uh, shit I've been around the world twice
And shit (it might of been three times when this drop)
It's like this, what these niggas is bitching and shit
They get scared when a nigga pressing real hard (they fucking faggots)
I be just try'nna tell a nigga, listen B., I'm try'nna eat like you fam
(Hear me out though) We come together 50/50 we can make something happen
(Let's make a hundred, you heard?)
[Shyheim]
I was in the pizza shop, ordered chicken parmagiane
That's when Sean John walked in, like "what up, son-son?"
That's you in that big body Benz with rims, huh?
Looking like the great rock star you are
He said he got an open gate, out in Victory Allah
And all he need is the weight, to really start the spark
And Sean been my heart, since we rocked Osh Kosh
Carved our names in tar, and ran trains on broads
So I told the God, we can bounce on Friday
We leave by two, get there by eight
I never knew on this date, Allah would taste my fate
I pulled up in the Mobil, to fill up the tank
Get a bag of chips, and a Nestle to drink
Then police rolled on me, you should of seen my muthafuckin' face, homey
I'm on parole, and I owe 'em like six more years, god damn, homey
[Dom Pachino]
Baby baby, I got something for ya
Sorta like the Rocky Mountains, purer than a spring water fountain
P always come correct, 'nuff respect in the hood
I'm a pimp, I'm a thug, I'm just misunderstood
Keep goodies like it's trick or treat, or it's meet and greet time
I'm just speaking my mind, plus I know you, gonna, like what I got
Like back in '97 when I blew up the spot
I had the red tops, plus the red hot hip hop
Now, come on boy, you should of seen the era
That's back when, I had to introduce them to Terror
Bring the pain, cuz, it's so excruciating
You better smarten up and start participating
My shit be red hot, like the hands of Satan
[Hasstyle]
As I walk through the flames and I brush off the ashes
Hasstyle resurrected, spit fire to them masses
From the present to the past tense, my absence in the game
Had niggas acting, like the kid was coming back the same
It's the Last of the Mohicans, with the cheap chop-to flow
That tomahawk, my only motto is to blow
If you love it then let it roll, the rest, you already know
I'm try'nna keep the peace and still keep a piece of my soul
With that Edgar Allen Poe flow, pit in the pendulem
I got to let them goons go, I'm sending them
Weight more than ten of them, kid, we doing our own thing
Get your block knocked off, I'm a king
It's the heat holding, theologent, with a make-it-or-break-it slogan
Kicking sugar pop, slang in the game, the kid chosen
Never catch me in the hood, on the corner posing
All you gotta do is say my name, everybody knows him
I treat rap, like it's the last game of the season, clock further, scores even
My last shot, you know I'm going in
With a team of chosen men, that all work for me
Keep 'em close to the sun, call 'em Team Mercury
With the strength of Hercules, I work the beat, no surrender, no retreat
Death before dishonor, learn to think before you speak
Teach 'em how thirty roll, and let 'em know a war assault feared
G coast, and let 'em go, cuz love'll get you killed here
Sip beer and grab the wine, for my time, out my mind
On the highway to heaven, taking rap cloud nine
I keep the doubt in mine, should of known that Hass gon' shine
How could you doubt mine? Shine...
