[Intro: Cam’ron]
Had to do this far my man, Murph

[Intro: Don Q]
Don

[Intro: Cam’ron]
Killa!
HELLO!
Rip Murph!

[Verse 1: Don Q]
Talking to lead, I’m one of the last few
Had to get my respect, it was past due
Through with my past, I just reminisce when I pass through
Moving them bags, tryin’ to get ’em flipped ’til my stash grew
Shooters that blast over the nonsense when the cash blue
Ask who? He was there when nobody actually cared
Real shit, had to share his kicks for half of the year
And now I take mine and I take his daughter shopping
Same nigga pull up to your door with the .40 knockin’
I got niggas quarter coppin’, coke in the water, lockin’
All they ever knew was hustle, cause they never saw an option
I’m hearin’ the sneak dissin’, I’m tryin’ to ignore the gossip
Third tape better be an earthquake before I drop it
I hear the hoes ponderin’, I got a cult followin’
Joe Carroll, I throw arrows into your soul hollerin’
I probably not the most known but I’m the most confident
The most relatable, no debatable, most dominant
I’m in need of a blessin’, I’m blowing weed to the heavens
Cause in my dream I was destined to see me speedin’ in 7s
When you look in the mirror, nigga, and see your reflection
Is you really or not? That’s the easiest question
I’m around OG’s, that was sellin’ ki’s out the Westin
Never leave ya protection, and never speak off confessions
Y’all niggas getting lost, when they only need a direction
Feel it when you look at his momma face, and see the aggression
DON!

[Hook: Cam’ron]
HELLO
Aw man
Harlem World
HELLO
High Bridge
HELLO
Bronx, Queens
HELLO
Brooklyn
HELLO
Staten Island
HELLO
Aw man
My bad ladies
HELLO
You gettin’ money?
HELLO
You fuck with snitches?
HELL No
Ok
HELLO
HELLO
HELLO
Aw man

[Verse 2: Cam’ron]
He know killers, y’all know Killa
Fast cars, speed boats, all sorts of villas
Bad girls, jewelry, drive-bys, chinchillas
R-I-P to Mike but I’m the real Thriller
I’m done with that though
I ain’t beefin with the family man
Shit I’m still in the PJ’s like candy man
With dudes sellin’ whole halves of candy yams
Despite that the garage look like Candy Land
Candy painted, ain’t nothing about me tainted
Drove every car, you name it, look homie, come get acquainted
Can’t change it or rearrange it, disclaimer because I’m heinous
The 9 will make you famous, Blow! That’s for the plaintiff
The gun range no goggles, the targets they testin’ nozzles
The bullets they on point, them points you call hollows
In the club we get the bottles, we leave it we hit the throttle
Then pull up inside McDonald’s with porn stars and models
Look nigga you can’t erase me
Debate me, rape me, I’m Spacey
These bitches, they want my baby, nah baby, but you can taste me
The guns got no safety, in DC, for when they grazed me
And I ain’t been postin’ lately, y’all would really hate me
Yeah homie, it’s a blessin’, I’m here to answer the questions
I’m the OG Don Q was talkin about at the Westin
Yeah, yeah, baby let that molly rock
Niggas suckas, I’ma start sellin’ lolli pops

[Hook: Cam’ron]
HELLO
Aw man
She sniffed a line
HELLO
Damn that ass fat
HELLO
Down south
HELLO
Midwest
HELLO
West coast
HELLO
Aw man
HELLO
You gettin money?
HELLO
You actin funny?
Hell no
Ok
HELLO
HELLO
HELLO
Aw man



Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *