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Cappadonna - Power to the Peso lyrics
f/ Lounge Mode, Solomon Childs, Wigz [Intro: Lounge Mode] Yeah, nigga! Aiyo, what up man? This is all BB right here Word, yo, we just slid in from the back door It's Code:Red, nigga, level four, ya'll know what it is, man I told ya'll, huh? I didn't? Watch this one, though (Goon Squad!) [Lounge Mode] Aiyo, I know niggas that get dusted and wild out They foul out, talk to the cops and play they style out Me? I'm real hood, and them niggas that was fakin' before I take they jaws, cuz Lord, I wish they would Yes, Lord, it's all good, you know I hustle In the tanktop with no muscle, all in the hood And roll dice by the elevator, and post up And wait there, if he comin' in, dog, gotta wait til later I squeeze off, ease off from the nine milly And my niggas be like, "Watch how he whine, Billy!" And for the record, these niggas gotta come kill me Where I'm at, in the Hill, by the Ooh, silly Danger, danger, ain't nothin' change but space Ask Space and Daxe, in how they manage And how I do damage, fuck takin' flicks for cameras You know them bandanas, run with them clip bananas I'm on the hunt for the big dough to stick Santana Plus these labels exec's come in a calm manner N.S.Beezy, I stay easy Fuck what ya'll niggas is talkin', I'm off the heezy [Cappadonna] In the hood, you get fake hugs and cold stares Heat holdin' niggas with the apple colored wears Try'nna get them greens, premature niggas get knocked out and dope fiend Niggas stand up, Staten Island, rip you and ya mans up Hands up, yeah, kid, it's the real Rough necks on this side, cats makin' a deal Coke in the bill, weapons appeal, do what ya feel From Park Hill to Jungle Nillz So much that we gotta pay the bills Give us the cream or get killed.... Goon Squad! [Wigz] Aiyo, my jewels so chunky, I got a brass monkey With a, rock in his ear, two chips in his tooth No cuff', I throw the ol' joint off the roof It's a new year, I'm layin' new words in the booth Fuck "The Truth", I'm "The Reason" why rap needs to +change+ The same four quarters in +the game+, I got change Nickles and dimes, rhymes, styles of Beneen See, Cash Rules Everything, lord, I need C.R.E.A.M. Gotta team that could elbow out the meat cooler I'm a hustler, I could sell a brick to a jeweler Off your front porch, g off ya back deck This me, Lounge and the team, we dishin' up the projects [Solomon Childs] We killas as sharp as knives Work for hire, special key be the paralyzer Got my own killa slang and dancers Certain hammers for certain circumstances These the roads of Allah's deed, knawhatimean? I took the advances and bulletproofed the Suburbans No handouts, stay earnin' mine The hood hate to see a nigga shine and now I know That a ho gon' always be a ho And 23's can't fit on a '98 Tahoe And ain't no superstars comin' off Apollo The chicks around the way frontin' with tongue rings, don't swallow My mind was raped as a child, Rocky could of never beat Apollo The feds could of never caught 'Cino P. Diddy would of never fell for a bird like J.Lo, power to the peso, nigga! |
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