Phantom Of The Beats - Miguel Sanchez lyrics

[Trife Da God] Uh, thirty thousand feet up in the air, up in the lear Dressed in a black tux, forty cal. tucked, strapped to the chair Half asleep, hopping out of my seat, caught in the daze Turned around and seen a white man's face, covered in shades I must of pa**ed out, can't remember sh** before I blacked out Three more n***as approaching, holding they mack's out One spoke, gave me the keys, to a boat Reached in his trenchcoat, and pulled out a yellow envelope Which contained twenty thousand in cash, a photograph Of a Colombian n***a with a long mustache Miguel Sanchez, keep a gun hidden in his pants leg With armed bodyguards, surveillance around his land spread He runs a billion dollar organization, under investigation Plus he's wanted by immigration Now I'm stuck, crazy look on my face, shocked in amazement How the f** I get involved with these federal agents They knew my background, knew about what happened down in Sac Town They knew about the wrap down south, they laid they backs down Said I had two decisions, take out Miguel and his cartel Or spend the rest of my life in prison A cla**ified mission on some James Bond sh** 007 style, love to get some straight convicts Now I'm pondering, my thoughts wandering, got my girl on the phone Told her to kiss little Jay cuz I'll be gone again Honey, I can't sleep, she s**ing her teeth If everything go good, baby, I'll be home in a week Pinching myself just to see if I'm dreaming, call up my team and Meet me by the docks in Miami, I'll fly out this weekend [Sun God] I got you n***a, four-four pop two n***as That drug lord that we want, got a spot for n***as And if we k** 'em, it's back to the block, my n***a He carried rugers, thirty four shots I figure He only holla at the kid, when there's money involved They pack shotguns, hollow tips, dummies and all When me and Trife doing right together, got no choice But give us ten, like we selling white together Left side, four-five, right, black beretta Taking trips over seas, flipping packs for better Every flight a hundred stacks and better, so grind hard Get ya money up, get on your grillies, don't mind odds f** a cop car, throw on some chumpers, and drop charge Hit the block hard, it's kinda hard being G-O-D If he owe Trife, he owe me Load up the mack grounds, M-I-A, call that the jack town Tell n***as I'm on my way, coming back down Miguel, Mr. Sanchez, it's a wrap, now Theodore extorting your sh**, handing out packs, now I used to listen to 50 and jam "Back Down" Now I slang fifty kilo's where I'm at now Fifty a wop, purple top, n***a, I'm back, clown Crystal bottles, Grey Goose for the chat lounge Channel seven news, older dude, murder gat found