Songtext The cypher Fat Joe

The cypher

Yeah, now take it out,
I care your baby and your baby careless
'and that's a perfect marriage.
Pray to God a nigga catch, still G in his ride
And I'm with that, crackers ' in your crime!
This is that cocaine rap, blood on the dope
I see zombies in the trap, next to Phantoms and a Ghost
Pussy on a pole, ' is an option
When you grow up on the stove and your' is never home, uh
We missed the heroin with the tranquilizer, nigga
All is missing is the dealers emphazing, nigga!
Junkies hobbling back like a class, yeah
Throwing niggas off the boat like clients fell
I'm on the top dead, go for ' across the trapez
Spend the coin, chasing tails just to drop heads
Hot tubs pulling back, fully know the chrome
Rolling stones on the cover of the Rolling Stone

Ha, ha, ha, hey you did that shit on'
Young niggas Shades!
Yeah, yeah, hit them niggas with that shit, man!
Hey, hey, time to be on the track!
Hey, hey!

First of all I wanna thank my connector
Putting me on game and always be on deck
Young Cuban, so I had to get the link upon my neck
That I leave no homie crack and make this money manifest
I can ' with the intend to '
To come direct to my directions, hyper-shit when shit commit.
My formulae is immaculate, net worth the sense
Laying shit the'we're getting lifted by the'
My niggas always packing pistols
Wanted treat to be my guest
Blow, and then we disappear with pure finesse.
And bitches like Montana, trying to end up more like Sosa
So I'm gambling with the coca till my cash will run it over
Got so many stash cosmogy, more than a'
The cliché to save, I only fuck how you feel
And I'mma keep stacking the stacking, you made this paper for real
'. And try to come up for real.

Chill, chill, chill nigga!
Man, they go forever, bro!
Hey!