Stole Something

(альбом: Blood Money - 2006)

[Havoc]
Woooh, yeah, you can get with this, or you can get with that
I don't got to tell you hoe, you know I got that crack
Three for the price of one, you know I have you coming back
You can have me a P.O. absolute, and it's a rap
It's a fact, niggaz know, fuck with us you getting clapped
No I won't, say your name, cause it just put you on the map
And I ain't, into letting niggaz eat, no never that
Shorty love the way I swing my game, I got a better bat
Know I'm lethal with this rap shit, c'mon baby holla back
Cut that juggler, you bleeding, no there ain't no stopping that
I don't sleep, my eyes open, maybe a good powernap
Spit a verse, then I eventually watch the cheddar stack
I'm shitting on niggaz, shitting like it's a ??
This a standing ovation for homey, with a Tek clap
F that, we taking over baby, and that's that
Catch me fucking with a bitch that can't stand rap

[Hook: Havoc 2X]
I get at niggaz like the stole from me, stole from me
Their bank account looking like no money, no money
There go police, shorty just hold for me, hold for me
You want to work? Then pump this O for me, O for me

[Prodigy]
Gunpowder resi' on the sleeve of my Pelle
I had to burn my leather, and toss (My Buddy)
Two hundred calls coming in on my celly
I had to cut the ringer, like "Fuck e'rybody"
Drive the bulletproof all the way to Cali
Lay low for a month or so getting very
High where I'm going it gets my mind of the bones
Back on the East Coast I bury
Now I'm partying with Halle Berry
This Hollywood shit'll catch you slipping if you let it
So niggaz started grilling me
Like they was gon' take my things, so I assumed I had to set it
Now it's blood splashed all on the ice in my jewellery
They don't know who did it, cause I did it smoothly
Take my ass back to Queens
It's not like I look for trouble, it seems trouble always finds me, then

[Hook: Havoc 2X]

[Lloyd Banks]
Look, I got tons of old beef, and a brand new forty
A hardcore groupie that would take a bullet for me
A high-priced lawyer, just in case a nigga snap
And can't take a joke, and pop a nigga over rap
A horrible splatter in a matter of a second
Dead over a record, shit he sound like he meant it
My crew greater, yeah I'm talking to you hater
I'm too major, two-tone blue gator
New blazer, big gun, little razor
So raise up, that ain't how your momma raised ya
They wire-tapping to hear something, they ear-hustling
They won't bust him, why they came in and handcuffed him
It's nothing, there's more 'mati's (automatics) at the spot
One flat tire's gon' matter if they pop
I pop up tomorrow with the wagon off the lot
Stashbox, with the nine magnum with a wop

[Hook: Havoc 2X]