Me Denny & Darryl
Alright there it go again
Yo, yo
Yeah, foreign cars, we coppin' 'em
Hoppin' in with Glocks an' 'em
Stick up kids on dead-end streets
We pop 'em first, we box 'em in
Behind the wheel, the driver's hittin' gas before the oxygen
Tryin' to find whatever hoes that he can tie his sock up in
To stop the bleedin' lotta reasons
Lotta goons they wanna eat
The money pop a lotta shit
The stick up game is outta season
First time I scoped 'em out in front of subways eating pizza
He didn't even peep us
This is practice, thuggin' with free access
Original hitmen, born shooter that wear glasses
Guns that stop traffic ain't afraid to blast it, bitch
This is Iraq iron not plastic
We hog tie, duck tape, take long drives
You in the trunk balls out naked, you gon' die
Any place on Gods green earth you gon' fry
Night, night, you going to bed, but not to the Stuy
Ayo, hempty-dimp, I love rice and shrimp
If I can't get on a plane then I'm catchin' a blimp
Told a brown skin, "Yeah you could call me a pimp"
But I'm the real orphan of rap, I got lost from the pack
The streets had me trapped, I ain't know where I was at
Weeded and saucy, black jeans, jewelry glossy
Early in the mornin', toast and coffee
You can't off me, your wack flow suck and exhaust me
I got New York heat, 'bout to fuck a chic shortly
I'm bow-legged with dogs, can't none of ya'll walk me
Honey's love me, follow me everywhere, stalk me
I'm good with the hoop, ten hut, my army tense up
You can't inch up, don't even flinch up
Honey's get wet and they panties be all drenched up
I'm comin' off the bench like I'm blowin' the bench up
Black crown, black apparel, black nunchucks
36 is hard to kill, we put a fence up
Armored tank Masta Killa shit, black Benz truck
Cauliflower wallabees, turkey legs, collard greens
Dollar dreams, if I'm not the T'Challa then what kinda king
Am I, my persona, man its nada, this is not a thing
Island got Italians load the tallons and the bada-bing
Make 'em sing, this is not Sopranos, ya'll don't make a scene
Making cream, how I make it up with out the Maybelline?
Can' with the laser beam, your favorite team's
Not the playground to play around with
Just try and take a swing
Yadamean? It's not a see saw battle
Not the bridge you wanna travel
'Cause your life expectancy on the Verrazano is narrow
Just, Me Denny and Darryl
Just before my hand cock you can see the Smith on the barrel
Hit the gravel, forever be in my shadow
Rather be up in the saddle than up the creek with no paddle
Key to the city, judge throw away the gavel
Since the game got pretty it don't go with my apparel
Yo, yo
Yeah, foreign cars, we coppin' 'em
Hoppin' in with Glocks an' 'em
Stick up kids on dead-end streets
We pop 'em first, we box 'em in
Behind the wheel, the driver's hittin' gas before the oxygen
Tryin' to find whatever hoes that he can tie his sock up in
To stop the bleedin' lotta reasons
Lotta goons they wanna eat
The money pop a lotta shit
The stick up game is outta season
First time I scoped 'em out in front of subways eating pizza
He didn't even peep us
This is practice, thuggin' with free access
Original hitmen, born shooter that wear glasses
Guns that stop traffic ain't afraid to blast it, bitch
This is Iraq iron not plastic
We hog tie, duck tape, take long drives
You in the trunk balls out naked, you gon' die
Any place on Gods green earth you gon' fry
Night, night, you going to bed, but not to the Stuy
Ayo, hempty-dimp, I love rice and shrimp
If I can't get on a plane then I'm catchin' a blimp
Told a brown skin, "Yeah you could call me a pimp"
But I'm the real orphan of rap, I got lost from the pack
The streets had me trapped, I ain't know where I was at
Weeded and saucy, black jeans, jewelry glossy
Early in the mornin', toast and coffee
You can't off me, your wack flow suck and exhaust me
I got New York heat, 'bout to fuck a chic shortly
I'm bow-legged with dogs, can't none of ya'll walk me
Honey's love me, follow me everywhere, stalk me
I'm good with the hoop, ten hut, my army tense up
You can't inch up, don't even flinch up
Honey's get wet and they panties be all drenched up
I'm comin' off the bench like I'm blowin' the bench up
Black crown, black apparel, black nunchucks
36 is hard to kill, we put a fence up
Armored tank Masta Killa shit, black Benz truck
Cauliflower wallabees, turkey legs, collard greens
Dollar dreams, if I'm not the T'Challa then what kinda king
Am I, my persona, man its nada, this is not a thing
Island got Italians load the tallons and the bada-bing
Make 'em sing, this is not Sopranos, ya'll don't make a scene
Making cream, how I make it up with out the Maybelline?
Can' with the laser beam, your favorite team's
Not the playground to play around with
Just try and take a swing
Yadamean? It's not a see saw battle
Not the bridge you wanna travel
'Cause your life expectancy on the Verrazano is narrow
Just, Me Denny and Darryl
Just before my hand cock you can see the Smith on the barrel
Hit the gravel, forever be in my shadow
Rather be up in the saddle than up the creek with no paddle
Key to the city, judge throw away the gavel
Since the game got pretty it don't go with my apparel
Credits
Writer(s): Clifford Smith, Ross Filler, Danny Caiazzo, Daryll Hill
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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