[Intro: AZ]
Yea Devine Intervention
Miliato, Begetz, AZ
Quiet Money Presents
[Verse 1: Half-A-Mil] (R.I.P.)
Now the twin towers done blew up
n***as seen the footage and threw up
I got platinum bullets for y'all to chew up
Mil-latin the dog done grew up
Is it still Manhatten I speak street slang arab-a-latin
My gunz speak rat-a-ta-in
Understand my lingo
I'm from Albany Afganistan
f** Chris Cringo and Christopher Columbus
I'll shoot scud missles through his kango and spray z gas
On ya f*ggot a**
Allah you akba, make 767's crash
Smack Jesus Christ and smoke a half a pound of hash
I keep a half a pound of cash
I thought I told you cats
I'm not a rapper
Rock a G on my chest that stands for god
f** Dan I'm dapper
Prada from head to toe
Dollars, cherries in the moe
You fake a** pimps, get my chips
So I'm burying you and your hoes
I plant plutonium bombs after each and every show
So every artist you sign is guaranteed to blow
I'm guaranteed to flow
Puffin that magic weed
Knowledge itself n***a that's what you need
So f** you and those crabs that you feed, tell 'em holla at me
[Hook: AZ]
New York New York with blood in your ice
Put numbers on your head k**a name your price
We gets love where ever we go
Cause the street life is all we know
It's all we know
[Verse 2: Begetz]
I work for a quarter million in dope
A million dollars in cash
1.5 under the bathroom stash
Put that little a** gun away n***a
Step up your murder game
Still f**in wit weed
Step up to h**ne
Cardiay diamond links no more gold chains
Vertical doors, candy paint, and woodgrain
I'm the one to watch n***as don't cover your eyes
So many eyes on my watch got 'em hypnotized
f**in with hustlers ballin like rap n***as, throwin money in the air screemin I ain't gotta rap n***as
The 9 m & m ain't sweet like candy
Got mines on me front row with a grammy
Slugs on the left and lust on the right
f** an award boo we'll take you home tonight
Milli gates in the spyder with the gla** roof
Damn near crashed in valet off that over proofed sh**, we drunk
[Hook] - 2X
[Verse 3: AZ]
I got one son, two guns, a couple of cribs
Just tryin to live
f** gettin stuck with a bid
n***as I f** with now
Used to f** with his kids
Slim dude food never stuck to my ribs
Been tried on occasions
I lie with persuasion
Hustled out of town nearly died in a Days Inn
Breezed on a turnpike
Received then returned kites
Cold D to O.G homie n***a earn strikes
Burnt mics
Left 'em there to sizzle for shizzle
You know the dizzle my nizzle
I'm so visual
All j**els tiz you paid dues true to the grizzle
Blew a few mil and still official
BIG we still miss you
The games real fickle
It's two thou and a nickel
n***a trying to go triple
Until I'm there wit you
A wheel chair cripple
It's no secret I'm a keep it popin like a pistol
[Hook] - 2X