Capone-N-Noreaga, Tragedy Khadafi - Not Stick You Part 2 lyrics

(phone ringing
Noreaga speaking with unknown woman)
Who the fuck is that? Ayo, pass my phone
Those bitches calling you now?
It ain’t no bitch no bitches
Even got my number

See I was wakin’ up
Out of my sleep, holdin’ my heat
Got a call from Khadafi sayin’
"Call me back Papi"
I rushed to the bathroom to bust me a leak
Charged my phone for a second ‘cause
I knew it was deep
I know Trag, and Trag ain’t afraid of no beef
But he fuck with bottom feeders
And them niggas is creeps (True)
Called him back, he ain’t answer
I got a little worried
Text messaged him quick, said "Call me back
Hurry!"


I rolled a blunt and I tried to relax
This nigga put me on, gotta show him love
That’s facts phone rang, and I picked up
Like "What up slime?"

Peace god, I’m in Miami
Don’t take it in vain
On Biscayne with three Italian
Bitches goin' insane

I said god, no disrespect
While I’m smokin’ this joint
But it’s late night
Nigga gotta get to the point

Won't make a long story longer
So I’ll cut to the chase
Fuckin’ with the boss wife
The bitch showed me the safe

It ain’t a shock
I got some Haitian niggas out in Opa-Locka
And some goons up in Overtown
They’ll do it proper but the thing is
They don’t wanna what they work for
They just wanna kill shit
Niggas never out of line
They just wanna kill shit

Real talk, real spit gorilla shit in my vibe
I g’ed her for the combination
And I saw bout nine
I ain’t talkin’, this is actual facts
Matter of fact
I’ma boomerang ‘Pone on this Jack

Aura

Ayo slime, what up man?
I’m boomeranging you, man
‘cause I got off the phone with
The Deuce and all that
(Aight, what he saying?) You
Know slime on this
Good guy shit i got three bitches, i got
Three bangin’ Italian bitches, nigga look
We can bring
This shit back, forward and all that
The aura’s gracious
One bitch is from Star Island
My nigga the other bitch?
She from motherfuckin’ Coconut
Grove and the bitch I’m fuckin’ wit’, feel
Me, she from motherfuckin’ Golden Beach, son
This shit is poppin’, my nigga (Whassup?)
Word is born, I need you

Aight got some niggas in the Grove
Gun stay hot as the stove
My Little Haiti niggas out of control
All they need is a whereabout to air it out
Escape to the stash house in West Palm
Chill Mahdi, you know we do this best calm
Word to my left arm you my right hand
We in it for life, fam
Just give me the address
My niggas right there in a white van
I spoke to Cadeuce he was like, damn
Slime caught up in a light jam
I be there in a minute my mind zonin’
Thinkin’ 'bout all of them stacks
Made a call to my had to give ‘em my facts
"Rich boss and my nigga fuckin’ his wife
He know where the safe at
But yo, we gotta thug ‘em tonight
Here’s the game plan
She gonna let him know when his plane land
And text slime the code to
The gate and the door
You could hide in the closet ‘cause
The safe in the floor"
Fast forward ‘bout nine PM
He pulled up in a lime BM
Puffin’ a Cuban cigar
Made his way to the boro and the door’s ajar
My nigga hopped out
Threw the heat to his face said
"Me nah wan’ hurt you, bwoy
Where the key to the safe?"
He gave it up quick
Lookin’ at these niggas with dreads
Knowin’ one false move they probably
Fill him with lead
Took the bread, hopped back in the whip
In about 45 minutes met the whole
Team back on the strip
Split the loot up - 85 racks apiece
We got it in, my niggas now let’s feast