Knuckle Up - Icewater, Raekwon, Pimp C.

We slang kilos, eighths to them shorties, bring G loads

A paper to the hood, we got you, cop three of those

And get your hustle right, whether you a trapper

or a gun clapper, make sure your weapon is hype

We got all kinds of shooters, sprayers, pitchers

Nigga who hit playa, catch you in ya gators

Haters that love rockin nigga for bread, lead fly

Hit in you back of your head, he gettin dough, all that’s dead now

Yo, no more hallucinatin, we just used to hatin

Go 'head and violate, we murder clicks, who you takin?

Not none of us!

You know my gun’ll bust

And every town state, niggaz pull they guns for us And peel somethin up, and kill somethin up We «Go Hard"like Tennessee boys, hit 'em up We get it every day and, it’s like a matinee and

We on the block hard, Allah said «Rae, you made it»

It’s time to take it over, it ain’t a safe promoter

Out there, give me my change or get thrown in the Rover

It’s Donnie, I get lots of bread, though as far as that block

I got it locked, like a rasta’s dreads

And I will infra-beem dot ya head, put a couple of shots

Inside your top, tryna stop my spread

Fuck cops, I just watch for feds

Cause I know they be hatin on how I’m cakin

want me boxed or dead

I move with birds by the flock, instead — D. C I keep whoopin, keep cookin, 'til the pots is red

Keep pushin, I don’t stop at reds, fuck a red light

It’s red light specials, when I pop that lead

I can even make a boxer beg, catch ya pops in bed

Pop his legs, while you watch him beg

The name’s Donnie, I was mobster bred, so you know I’m a don

Plus I was born with that shottas edge

I keep that chopper filled with copperheads, I bust a couple of shots

It’ll leave a couple coppers dead

And you can run a couple blocks ahead, and wont get away

Unless you wore some shit today that blocks ya head

Huh, step up yo’game, you off the square (square)

You cain’t be a pimp just 'cause you got long hair (hair)

'Lacs don’t make macks, AK’s don’t make killas

Scary niggaz shoot first, if you a G, it’s a curse (curse)

+Last of a Dying Breed+ like Brad JORDAN

Pimp C, bitch!

Words nuts and my foreign

If I say it in the streets, I’ll say it to ya face

Knock ya whole muthafuckin off, take my case

Never give 'em my connects, never hit P. C

I’m a young fuckin HOG!

Bitch, +The Game Belong to Me+

Dick ain’t free, fuck a promo show

You ain’t got fifty thousand cash, bitch, fuck the radio!

(beyatch!)

Fuck BET and fuck, Diana Ross

Shut the fuck up, old bitch!

Slim THUG is the BOSS (BOSS)

J. Prince the Godfather, DJ Screw is the King

Ride my dick, a Cadillac, got’cho advance in my pinky rang, BEEEEE-YATCH!!!

(In my pinky rang, BEEEEE-YATCH!!!)

BEEEEE-YATCH…Sweet Jones, BEE-YATCH!

Hol’up, motherfucker!

Motherfucker, smoke sum’hin, BEE-YATCH!

Trademark, knahmtalkinbout?