Rick Hyde, Heem B$F, Black Soprano Family - Da Mob lyrics

These are the real Sopranos

Look, I just spent a quarter chicken
Now I'm worth a quarter ticket
Put a quarter in my backies
Give a quarter to my bitches
Ever since a quarter century
I been rakin' up the digit's
All these dollars out of quarters
I should give a course in vendin'
Brought the razorbacks like Arkansas
Then Butcher taught me blend it
Turn a four into a seven
Then you hit the block and kill it
That's how I fed my mama
And three other lil' siblings
Not to mention my children, shit
Everybody winnin'
Took a gamble just to get here
The risk takers gon' get theirs
Or I'm gettin' a checkerboard
AKA a big square
Break it down in fair chances
Then we goin' square dancin'
From Charlotte back to New York
In Miami like I'm Ant Mason
Black Soprano Family with the
Leverage is impeccable
You rappers is unethical
Turn niggas to vegetables
Matter fact, nigga, shoot yourself with it
Plaxico shells hotter than Mexico
Feel it on your chest like a stethoscope

I love the game, I'm from the streets
I survived some murder beef, ever since then
I play for keeps
I'm shootin' everywhere the laser blink
Drums on the 223
Shuttin' down the motor on the V
So be careful ridin' down them streets
And, nigga
Bring your biggest gun when you think
You're runnin' down on me
I'm with some niggas that'll die for me
You gotta look me in the eyes when you
Tell me you gon' ride for me
It's time to tell my side of the story
A nigga came off the bench
But I got rings like Robert Horry
I made movies, but ain't record it
Spray thirty-something shells
Clear the scene before it get reported
Movin' cautious, I can't afford it
Raised by them real trenches
Catch a body and you get rewarded
Pushin' grams, tryna make a fortune
Had a couple bad runs like the
Bills when they had Losman
I need the Rollie with the bezel frosted
Havin' triple beam dreams
Reminiscin' when I sold frosting
Me and my opps like LA and Boston
I thought of that one on the plane
On the flight from LA to Boston
Sippin' D'USSÉ with the double crossers
The way we do you, think it's voodoo
So be careful 'fore you double cross us
You run your mouth, my guns talkin'
Place a bounty on your head
Now you just a dead man walkin'

Yo, look
They told me I'm playin' with fire 'cause
I ain't throw my phone away yet i'm in deep
The hustler instinct ain't go away yet
I kept a hammer in the bubble coat
On the east side of Buffalo
The forty made me trigger happy
My plug made me comfortable
Hit the lot, then I'm coppin'
Ain't nothin' to guess 'bout this shit
I don't even know the price
I need to test drive the whip
When you was stressed 'bout a bitch
My team was fresh out of bricks
Coppin' in Miami at the Best
West' by the strip your bitch hit my phone
And she don't want nothin' specific
Hoes know I'm ballin' like the
US in the Summer Olympics
I played the strip 'til the
Mail came in, Chancel fragrance
Hell raisin' nigga, my hood full of shell
Casings from twelve gauges
Let's see who really rivals
If your city really follow
I'm in the lab, writin'
Ashin' in an empty Henny bottle
I had a spot in all hoods
Had my pockets all full
'Til rap made me more political
Like Pac before Suge
This flow got me enemies
I don't speak to half y'all
I got weaker rap squads
Doin' features half off, yeah
No cops when I hit the scene
Popped up with Rick and Heem
Mask, no vest, just a mop like Mr clean, ah

These are the real Sopranos big BSF, nigga
All my niggas is Capos, nigga
We take this Black Soprano shit serious
Real shit shoutout my nigga City Boy
My nigga Rick Hyde, Heem
Produced by Shay, you a fool, nigga
Ah, 2020 mine, nigga, hahaha
Big BSF, Big Griselda in this motherfucker
I had to come clean niggas up, ah