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    [Intro: Ghostface Killah]
    [church bell ringing]
    Yeah, yeah, we want all that shit, we'll take all that shit
    Sneak up on 'im right, feel me?
    Soon as he turn around, just yapp this nigga
    I got everything, youknowImean?
    They ain't gotta do nothing, but just search them bitches
    Let's go...

    [Ghostface Killah]
    Nobody move, nobody get hurt
    This is a stick up, I want y'all to lift y'all skirts
    I mean shirts, take ya hoodies off, jackets and watches
    Before you put ya hands on the wall, empty ya pockets
    Fix ya face, this a robbery, nigga, respect the juks
    Stop shaking, you making me nervous, I know that you shook
    The fuck is that sticking out from under ya foot?
    Move, turn ya head around, nigga, you better not look
    Stacks, you hiding from Tone? I'll shake, rattle ya bones
    You killed him! Nah, hit him with the back of the fucking chrome
    In the dark, yo, I do this alone
    That's the reason why I don't shake hands, in case I gave you a phone
    That's a buck fifty, long hickey, when I strike I do it quickly
    Creep up on my victims swiftly, make it hard for you to stick me
    Cuz if we shoot it out, cuz if I die tonight you coming with me
    Bitch-ass nigga, eat through ya chest like some fucking whiskey

    [Chorus: Solomon Childs]
    BOY! Gut him like a pig in the dark
    Or auction off ya bitch body parts
    BOY! Poison a guard dog, disarm the alarm devices
    Throw ya head in vicegrips (yeah)
    BOY! Or stick a hot blade through his heart
    Get to sticking niggaz for the right prices
    BOY! Yeah, this is priceless.. GET 'EM!

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    [Sun God]
    Aiyo, I post up, packed the shotti
    Black mags in lobbies, with red dots, to detach the body
    If you a boss, why ya cash is sloppy?
    This a Staten Island burglar gang, ock, not no Ave could stop me
    I'm on the road, not no massive robbery
    When it come to that dough, it over flow like paper bag tsunamis
    I take shit, lumberjacks and Tommy's
    Niggaz passing out bombs like Culpepper, so I pass behind 'em
    My black glove, black mask, requirements
    Sent the order to Trife Dies', and he gon' send 'em fast, they flying in
    These cowards couldn't clash our lion's den
    That forty-four mag'll twist ya aves and the cav you flying in
    We hoping out cabs like Iron Men
    It's hard to believe how niggaz leave with no bag supplying sense
    Empty cuz my staff is hiring
    Canine dogs with felonies duck fast when firing

    [Chorus]

    [Trife Da God]
    Aiyo, we carry arms like a octopus
    Shorty's strapped with the mac inside her pocket book
    Blowing all lots of kush
    Dark tints on the V so the D's can't spot the crooks
    Just throw ya hands in the sky, don't try to stop the juks
    Face down, lay on the ground, no sudden moves
    Yo, then, take off his Timbs and get the work out his shoes
    Rip off the pockets out his shoes, make sure he come out his used
    I hear sirens, plus the cameras is watching, it's time to move
    If you lolly-gagging, word to mama, I'll body bag 'im
    Leave his frame riddled with holes, looking like Gotti had 'im
    Bragging, juked, in the wagon, laughing
    We slid a few blocks down, this kid was frozen
    With stones so we decided to yapp 'im
    I put the tool in his mouth, said "You don't want the action
    These ain't E pills, nigga, these is fuckin aspirin
    Bean, blast 'im, Homo' get his girl for his cash and
    Yo, E, go stop the whip, they 'bout to witness a slashing" (BOY!)

    Información de la canción

    Composición: Bank y Sram Jones

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