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Shyne - Commission lyrics
Verse 1] From cuttin' solid Purico to stack Fritos went from grams to kilos Mac in one hand, in the other hand grands and C-notes game got my eyes wider than a 430 Buggy no tellin' what the fuck I'll do for this money stay posted up close with killers and cut throats the thoroughest bitches who in they pussy stuff coke as I cook and cut coke with the bakin' soda Arm and Hammer palmin' hammers think you crazy? nigga, my clique's bananas takin' over with the Mafia hittin' niggas for they bricks like Gracias the cockiest, it's obvious, it's me, he, who? confront frontin' niggas like "You want it? well nigga, me too" what the fuck, I'm callin' your bluff, niggas act like they stopped makin' guns after they made yours I'm sponsored by the NRA, DOA rules grin and stand over your coffin like "Hey you!" tell the Devil I'm comin', keep it hot for now I got my eyes on a billboard spot don't stop. [Chorus 2X] Die for it take the stand, lie for it blow trial, get up in the chair and fry for it never tellin' or snitchin' rather swim with the fish'n mothafucka respect it, the commission [Verse 2] (First 4 lines with Jamaican accent) I buy and sell bricks with my nigga P.D. down with the team called B.B.E. now if you want to join the team you know you must see me buy ya can't talk to FEDS or dick R.I.D. It's a cold World baby boy, fuck it, I'm colder Animals on my back keep my warm, my armor Frank Lucas persona, warmin' coke up in the sauna let me warn ya, trip against my team you's a goner infact it's drastic a couple Million in the mattress with a safe dick I say fuck taxes rather endulge in duct tape pig tie tactics crime pays nigga, Nine-Hundred and Ninety-Nine ways my destiny's vague, will I survive or blow trial? lay shot up, Puff cryin' in denial while my enemies smile, buried in style Gucci suits and cufflings sneakin' drugs through Heavens customs. [Chorus] [Verse 3] POP POP POP! warning shot, who's to blame Shyne mothafucka, don't forget the name stretch the Caine, to cop the house and the plane 'till my Massacre, slain brains hang from the window of my Range fuck the FEDS, 2 green and one red Firm tight, hold the dice in this game of life Aces suffice paper's a must Fallen Angels and Angel dust my team do dirt to avoid layin' in the dust Million dollar portraits in my fortress of course it's Po bloodstainin', aeroplanin', Four-Hundred horses slow Platinum cable, round table, so all the bosses know I'm takin' over 'cause they coke got too much bakin' soda they say money ain't everything you fuckin' right nigga, it's the only thing in God we trust, the Holy thing I look into my enemy's eye let 'em know you play fly you go out Kennedy style. Chorus 2x |
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