Midnight In Manhattan

(альбом: Red October - 2023)

Yeah
(What's up, Juwop?)
(Beat those drums)

We ain't taking no breaks, the paper's all I'm gon' chase
I bet I make it where I'm going, no matter how long this shit takes
I bet I make it where I'm going, no matter what they throwing my way
I ain't never switching up, even when the shit ain't going my way

Fuck it then
Get this money, motherfuck a friend
If life's a bitch, I'm a lucky man
When opportunity knocks, you better hop off your ass and go and buzz 'em in
I was Mr. Bigs in the Comfort Inn
With the sandwich bags and the rubber bands
Had all them blocks, my hotel room starting to look like Legoland
I came a long way
Plus I had to find my own way
I ain't ever in a hurry, baby, I'ma get his money at my own pace
Ain't nobody gon' rush me
Nigga, life sucks 'til you succeed
I live life in the fast lane like the lead driver for Rusty's
Made it this far, can't backtrack
My flow sicker than a lab rat
Moved so much weight, I got a bad back
Shell blowing gas like Mad Max
If a nigga really want smoke, better know I'm suiting up like hazmat
Even when my money was funny, wasn't shit to laugh at

When the money was funny, wasn't shit to laugh at
Any means necessary, I'ma have to—
Yeah

By any means necessary, I'ma have to do what I gotta do
I am from the gutter, you ain't got a clue
We was moving stones, yabba dabba doo
I aim in the league, got a lot to lose
But I still ain't got a damn thing to prove
Just another nigga with an attitude
And my heart colder than an ice cube
Say your nigga colder? Tell him, "Achoo"
It ain't 'bout the pennies, then it's minute
If we in the streets, then you know I'm spinning like a nigga friends with Ken and Ryu
I just wanna ball, baby, Caillou
And I got more drive than a drive-through
I ain't made no motherfucking excuse
Since a nigga graduated high school
Long live Pif

I ain't made no motherfucking excuse
Since a nigga graduated—
Huh
And I got drive like a drive-through
Yeah

We ain't taking no breaks, the paper's all I'm gon' chase
Bet I make it where I'm going, no matter how long this shit takes
I bet I make it where I'm headed, no matter what they throwing my way
And I ain't never switching up, even when the shit ain't going my way

Fuck it then
Get this money, motherfuck a friend
If life's a bitch, I'm a lucky man
When opportunity knocks, you better hop off your ass, go and punch 'em in
Mr. Bigs in the Comfort Inn
Sandwich bags and the rubber bands
All them blocks, my hotel room starting to look like—
Long live Pif
(Beat those drums)
(What's up, Juwop?)