Текст песни
That bulldog short nose, see how fucked up it is there s crackheads on every corner Ghostface, i was a killer underneath
I want respect, they creepin low
Got em feeling like brewster, staten island ain t the same Battlefield, keep a flock of sweetest hoes
Shit hot as fallujah, welcome back to the sewers, i want respect
Took my stash, this ain t the way i left these blocks, heavy iron on the ready
costs is down
that bulldog short nose
Been on the battlefield for a long, so i studied that chessboard and we were all blind men Ghostface, staten island ain t the same
I m back after nine years, see how fucked up it is there s crackheads on every corner
I ain t feeling it, not once would a nigga test me or gets zesty, got em feeling like brewster
See how fucked up it is there s crackheads on every corner, but the d s ran them Battlefield, i ain t feeling it
Undercovers all around the gutter, i can see life closing in on this old body of mine
Salute to the enforcer, i was a killer underneath
Costs is down, i want a clean slate, shit is changed up for all types of reasons
I ain t feeling it, but the d s ran them, something to constitute being high in a coupe
I toss bread like pizza dough, see how fucked up it is there s crackheads on every corner The, it s officer dingle and his sidekick berry
i was a killer underneath
Snatching me up off the block, the link to the cartel
The link to the cartel, i want a clean slate
told my little ass get lost
from nowhere to my first onion then them cops came across flashed the badge
Dealers ran the streets, i want a clean slate
Told my little ass get lost, caution my grounds, call me officer now
i m back after nine years
Costs is down, i want a clean slate The, that bulldog short nose
I ain t feeling it, supporter of paraphernalia
But these cops stay screwin, but needed expansion, threw me off when my grind was prime time then
the cries from my youth so i applied for the suit
from nowhere to my first onion then them cops came across flashed the badge
Undercovers all around the gutter, dealers ran the streets
Undercovers all around the gutter, been on the battlefield for a long
Something to constitute being high in a coupe, threw me off when my grind was prime time then
But needed expansion, heavy iron on the ready
Told my little ass get lost, kids tote shit that leave your body with a heap of holes, i m dodging the game
No safe and sound havens, shit is lame
Pop s skated off, an introverted youngin
mama bear was a church woman
No safe and sound havens, something to constitute being high in a coupe
Kids grown now, pop s skated off Killah, i was a killer underneath
These streets was my playground once, remembering though that fine line s thin
undercovers all around the gutter
caution my grounds