(La Música de Harry Fraud)

Back the .40 out in Footlocker, the mall'll panic
Painted the 'Rari pomegranate, it was hard to manage
Double dutchin' with this paper like we jumpin' rope
Gemstar razor, couple flavors in them bubble coats
My passion make me work, know that grass feel different
When you get tackled on turf, just pay me back by the first
I feel like Bone Thugs, I feel like Pablo, had my own drugs
Borrowed every hammer from Shoota, fuck who he don't love
I felt like Dolla Bill in "Player's Club," I want my own club
The system tried to move us, but we won't budge
Not to avoid them niggas that I don't love
Drizzy sent me a coat, then Yeezy sent me his boost
Then J. Cole sent me his shoes
I got ties with the idols in this shit
If I hit your wife on camera, I'm goin' viral with your bitch
Moonwalkin' with a Glock, I feel like Michael with the stick
I got this chick that move just like Griselda Blanco
I told her just me and Capo
Open the door (open the door)

Jimmy, one reporter who took a very long at Hoffa
Suggested that in a choice between power and money
He'd always choose power
But if it came to the question of power as against money
Certainly, I would select power
Nobody in this country respects what's weak, you believe me

If Harlem had a king I'd be a no-brainer (chill, don't say that)
Pour the water from the base through an old strainer (strainer)
Start talking 'bout that base, I mean that cocaina (ayy)
If I'm drawin' at your face, but I ain't a painter (shoot that shit up)
Just like Picasso, nigga, I could make the picture vivid (you see that?)
Young with the guns, I remember takin' pictures with it
I been critically acclaimed, nigga, you just a critic
I got that special recipe when I whip the brick (whip it)
Some use a microwave or put it on the stovetop (mm)
Now you stuffin' your pockets, you might pop up with a froze watch
Nigga, fuck all the coppers, I curse at 'em through my rose top
They know if I jump in the booth that every verse of my flows hot (sizzlin')
Fire, nigga, hot like when lavas drippin' (uh-huh)
Had all the Mikes, still wanted to buy the Pippens (I'm greedy)
I'm good with the bangin', hop out and I started clipping 'em (grrah, grrah, grrah)
I'm better with a chick on my side, in my ride, we dippin' soon
Chill, I don't think you seen no killin' shorty (you ain't seen shit)
I had them niggas that kill all in front your buildin', shorty (watch)
You know the drill, Ferrari wheels when I'm feelin' sporty (huh)
They call me a Moreno but I'm still a Bori', huh (but I'm still a bori')

Yet we lived in a basement of this magnificent building here
And we were broke, I had no money, so the amount of money we have today
But because we are financially sound
Because we do have an organization that is perfect to handle
Any situation that comes in front of it, they can command respect

Copyright: CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): David Brewster, Joseph Jones, Michael Kuzoian, Rory William Quigley