The Pay Back

Yeah son, I know you can hear me man
Shit been crazy in the hood since that happen, hu
But I found out the cat that did that, word to minds
I'mma see him in a minute son, hu, it's on

{Lawrence Fishburn from Hoodlum: "Get ready for your final thrill."}

I know the clubs where you rock at, the spots you cop at
Keep frontin' nigga, showin' ya Roley, getcha watch snatched
Watch that, know where your moms shop at
Gotcha block mapped and ain't afraid to push ya top back
Fuck if you stay straped, got the drop it's hard to spray back
That's what you get when you borrow shit, and never pay back
So nigga say that, frontin' like you can't lay flat
You a rat, plus you started this beef from way back
Cats you sip wit, even feel you on some flipped shit
Thought I was twisted, beat that, been home since Christmas
Got the word where your bird live, out in L.I
From this next bitched named Trista sell lye in Bed Stuy
So nigga what now? Got the whole game fucked now
Who you trust now? See you tinted up your truck now
No need to back track, next time know who you blast at
For gettin' Black clapped, got your cousin killed and nap napped
Now the streets know, nuttin' left for us to keep low
Never sleep though, on point don't make a nigga reach low
Up in Brookdale, heard my little man took 12
Jagged hook shells, doctors claim it don't look well
Left his mom stressed, now it's time to bomb the projects
Teflon vest, four pounds could make your palm sweat
Put the word out, so vexed I even curse your bird out
She don't deserve clout, flippin' wit the cotton herb mouth
On Pottemscott, me and Wop, nickel gats cocked
The way we popped up, so shocked, niggas made our backs rock
Broad daylight, y'all hustle fake, and don't play right
Holdin' shit wit broken clips that spit, but don't spray right
Clothes, cars & ice, hard to remember starvin' nights
Niggas startin' fights, narcs in the dark, coke cloggin' pipes
Starvin wifes, used to buy weight at bargain price
Now we scarred for life, clog is desolvin', slowly outta sight
All illin', navigatin' four wheelin'
Alcohol spillin', marinatin' on your killin'
Like a contest losers fall, winner takes all
Judges make calls, kings stand behind the 8 ball (8 ball)

{Tim Roth from Hoodlum: "You're a dead fuckin' nigga! You hear me?
You're dead!"}
{Lawrence Fishburn from Hoodlum: "Get ready for your final thrill."}

I know the clubs where you rock at, the spots where you cop at (yeah)
Keep frontin' nigga, showin' ya Roley, getcha watch snatched
(get it snatched)
Watch that, know where your moms shop at
Gotcha block mapped and ain't afraid to push ya to back (uh huh)



Credits
Writer(s): Anthony S Cruz, Jean Louis Pinot-pudour, Calvin Jones, Stuart Colin Matthewman, Sade Adu, Andrew Paul Hale
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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