Testo No Hook - Evil Empire, DJ Drama, Styles P, Cassidy & Jim Jones
Testo della canzone No Hook (Evil Empire, DJ Drama, Styles P, Cassidy & Jim Jones), tratta dall'album Interstate Trafficking 5.0
Pardon the interruption for this little smoke break
It's, Evil Empire
Life is like a poker game, we raising up the stakes
Testarossas in the lane, racing up the eights
We betting thousands on the street corners
Rolling dice with police on us
Slower nights, the Hennessy warm us
The colder nights, the heated seats warm us
I've known this life since a V-bomber
Two paper on retainer, in case they do detain us
This four-door for a run, all we do the ranges
Hear me supercharge 'em, the coupe's no baller
Hardtop's for beginners, soft top for the winners
Drop the top in the midst of December
They tell me slow down, the fast life is all in us
I crack the window, see the Porsche steaming
Vegas trips cause I'm Rothsteinin'
It's all a gamble though
A hundred grand to blow, same as on my wrist, bitch
A thousand grams of dope is basically a quick flip
You don't wanna rivalry, nobody trying me
Looking for some good in me, little bit of God in me
Right now, whole lot of shit starting to bother me
Wanna see some brains spilled, shitload of arteries
Any rap motherfucker tryna say they hard as me
Tell the truth, I don't know why these niggas starting me
Being that I'm indie now, fuck a semi
Get a rocket launcher, I better shoot your Bentley or your hemi down
Khaled, you should warn them niggas, add an extra listen on 'em
Then figure out who make the paper that stay missing for 'em
If they ain't in the top five, figure that I'm fishing for 'em
Toilet bowl bars, either shitting on 'em, pissing on 'em
Go and get your whole crew, round up the craziest
Send 'em here, I send 'em back, they show you what the razors did
We ain't getting paper, nigga, you could meet your maker, nigga
Turn you purple and yellow, just like a Laker, nigga
Any cat that rap could potentially get a felony
But I just beat a murder, what the fuck is niggas telling me?
I'm married to this rap shit but practicing infidelity
Cause grind is still dwell in me, yeah, I could still sell a key
I'm the hustler, motherfucker, I could sell a tree
To the forest, the hardest niggas is frail to me
They mad cause they money is funny like Bill Bellamy
And wanna put a shell in me, dog, but it's all jealousy
You smelling me but them dudes refuse to diss me
Cause I keep the tool that could fucking remove a kidney
I keep a nine, the same kind Shyne use for Diddy
Plus I keep the chopper to pop when I cruise the city
Just in case a nigga get reckless and try to test this
And I gotta knock all his breakfast out his intestines
(And put him on my death list) I don't care what niggas 'bout
If I hear a nigga mouth, then I'mma air a nigga out
Credits
Writer(s): Shawn Carter, Barry White, Levar Coppin, Deleno Sean Matthews, Sean J. Combs
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