Cam’ron - Intro (Come Home with) lyrics

Uh, how y'all doing out there?
I wanna welcome y'all back
Welcome some of y'all for the first time
Huh? (Killa)
We did it again, y'all don't fuck with us
Suck a dick man ayo Jones, what's good?
Santana, Freekey
They gon' be mad this time, huh?
Ayo, I got my man Kay Slay up in the house
Harlem, you know what it is, what's good?
You know how we get down, East side
El Barrio
El Barrio up in this bitch, ayo Kay
This bitch blowing up my
Motherfucking phone right now
Man, fuck, hold up, hol', yo man yo, son
What's good?
I gotta tell you like my dog told me
When you meet a chick
You gots to straight slap her slap her?
Yeah, when you first meet her, just slap her
Off the bat? Off the bat, just backhand her
Why's that, though?
'Cause then later on down the line
You ain't never gots to worry
About that chick telling you
"Cam, you don't treat me the way you used to"
(Ahaha) That's what I'm saying, nigga
But see the thing is with me
I don't understand how a bitch can go out
Rain, sleet, snow, fuck, suck whoever
And then go give another
Nigga her fucking money ya know what I mean?
Nah Cam, you gotta understand
That's 'cause ya game is tight
Oh, nah, not me Ka'
I'm talking about another nigga
I know my game is tight, nigga
Ya know what I mean?
We getting ready go set this
Shit the fuck off jones, where we at, huh?
(Harlem, Harlem, Harlem)

Yo, yo, I advise you to step son
'Fore I fuck your moms, make you my stepson
You'll be calling me daddy, cause'
The Rag Muffin you'll soon say
Y'all fuck around with brother Numpsa
Y'all gon' see doomsday
I'm a savage but colder
Now I rock karats that I'm older
See this parrot on my shoulder?
He do the talking
I ain't concerned with words
Act up, you'll be returned to the birds
I return with them birds
Any twenty-eight grams a bitch that I touch
Pretty much turns to birds
I be in Miami, Boca Raton, poking your moms
Her and ya aunt all over the Don
Using a dope then I'm gone, back
Copacabana, no joke, I'm bananas
Cops come for dope, it's a damper
I'm low in Atlanta, get hot, go to Savannah
Rush the crib, go in the hamper
Don't follow me, "Stan-a"
If you do, I'm blowing the hammer
That'll rip that vest apart
Hit ya chest and heart
I ain't finished, that's just the start
You'll be calling for back up
Praying for help fuck my life, taking myself
All the aching I felt
In my crib at night, praying for wealth
Bitches dissing
"What's the problem ma? I ain't balling?"
Now every ten minutes, ho prank calling

Yo Cam, fuck all this rap shit, man
Let's get down to business, Harlem
Yo Cam, what's good? What's poppin' nigga?