DJ Khaled, Rob Cash, Styles P, Cassidy, Jim Jones - No Hook lyrics

Jones!
You understand what's going on right now?
Dipset, Bird Gang, some real Geed up shhit
Listen 305, all the way to the top
Eh Khaled, what's good?

Rocks like bolder game crazy upstate
Test the Rolls in the lane, racing up the A
We betting thousands on street corners
Roll the dice with police on us
Slow like the Henesy
Cold tonight, need the seat warmers slice
4 door, welcome goods, no war
That's for beginners
I'm living like a winner

You don't want a robbery, nobody trying me
Looking for some good in me
Lil bit of god in me right now
Whole lotta shit startin to bother me
Wanna see some vains spilled
Shit load of arteries
Any rap motherfucker tryna say
They hard as me tell the truth
I don't know why these niggas start with me
I been in it now, fuck a semi
Get a rocket launcher
I better shoot your Bentley or
Your hand me downs
Khaled, you should warn them niggas
Ad an extra listen on 'm
Then figure out who make the paper
That say "missing" for 'm
Layin on the top, bigger than a fishing form
Go and get your whole crew
Round up the craziest send them here
I'll send them back and show
You what the raiser did
We ain't getting paper nigga
You can meet your maker nigga
Turn you purple and yello
Just like a laker nigga

Any cat that rap, step to me
I'd catch a felony i just beat a murder
What the fuck these niggas telling me?
I'm not into this rap shit
Practicing infedelity these
I could still sell a key
I'm the hustler motherfucker
I could sell a tree
To the forest, the hardest niggas is with me
Mad cause they money is
Funny like Bill Belomy
And wanna put a shell in me
Dog but it's all jealousy
You smellin me, but you refuse to diss me
Cause I keep a tool that
Could fuckin remove a kidnie i keep a 9
The same kind Shyne used for Diddy
Plus I keep the chopper
It pop when I crues the city
Just in case a nigga get wreckliss
Try to test this and I gotta knock out his
Breakfast out his intestines
Said I'm on his death list
I don't care what niggas bout
If I hear a nigga mouth
Then Imma air a nigga out

My bro Khaled said "bring the heat"
Birds think I got it, sweet
Cause I rode with Pistol Pete
My shit complete
I don't take it, I make it, but you can't
You can't slip
Can't even kiss a freak in your Benz
Please don't try to preach
You couldn't even last a week
In these damb streets
Cause you'll catch dots on your face
Like acney do this shit for fun
You better run like a track meet
Cause you don't want the gun dumped
On your tung like ass cheaks