Dom Pachino, Shyheim, Hasstyle - N.Y. Monstas lyrics

Uh, yeah, I got this uh, yeah, my God, uh
Shit I've been around the world twice
And shit
(it might of been three times when this drop)
It's like this
What these niggas is bitching and shit
They get scared when a
Nigga pressing real hard
(they fucking faggots)
I be just try'nna tell a nigga, listen B
I'm try'nna eat like you fam
(Hear me out though) We come together 50
50 we can make something happen
(Let's make a hundred, you heard?)

I was in the pizza shop
Ordered chicken parmagiane
That's when Sean John walked
In, like "what up, son-son?"
That's you in that big body Benz with rims
Huh?
Looking like the great rock star you are
He said he got an open gate
Out in Victory Allah
And all he need is the weight
To really start the spark
And Sean been my heart
Since we rocked Osh Kosh
Carved our names in tar
And ran trains on broads
So I told the God, we can bounce on Friday
We leave by two, get there by eight
I never knew on this date
Allah would taste my fate
I pulled up in the Mobil, to fill up the tank
Get a bag of chips, and a Nestle to drink
Then police rolled on me, you should
Of seen my muthafuckin' face, homey
I'm on parole, and I owe 'em
Like six more years, god damn, homey

Baby baby, I got something for ya
Sorta like the Rocky Mountains
Purer than a spring water fountain
P always come correct
'nuff respect in the hood
I'm a pimp, I'm a thug
I'm just misunderstood
Keep goodies like it's trick or treat
Or it's meet and greet time
I'm just speaking my mind, plus
I know you, gonna, like what I got
Like back in '97 when I blew up the spot
I had the red tops, plus the red hot hip hop
Now, come on boy, you should of seen the era
That's back when
I had to introduce them to Terror
Bring the pain, cuz, it's so excruciating
You better smarten up and start participating
My shit be red hot, like the hands of Satan

As I walk through the flames and
I brush off the ashes hasstyle resurrected
Spit fire to them masses
From the present to the past tense
My absence in the game had niggas acting
Like the kid was coming back the same
It's the Last of the Mohicans
With the cheap chop-to flow
That tomahawk, my only motto is to blow
If you love it then let it roll, the rest
You already know
I'm try'nna keep the peace and still
Keep a piece of my soul
With that Edgar Allen Poe flow
Pit in the pendulem
I got to let them goons go, I'm sending them
Weight more than ten of them, kid
We doing our own thing
Get your block knocked off, I'm a king
It's the heat holding, theologent
With a make-it-or-break-it slogan
Kicking sugar pop, slang in the game
The kid chosen never catch me in the hood
On the corner posing
All you gotta do is say my name
Everybody knows him
I treat rap, like it's the last
Game of the season, clock further
Scores even
My last shot, you know I'm going in
With a team of chosen men
That all work for me
Keep 'em close to the sun
Call 'em Team Mercury
With the strength of Hercules, I
Work the beat, no surrender, no retreat
Death before dishonor
Learn to think before you speak
Teach 'em how thirty roll
And let 'em know a war assault feared
G coast, and let 'em go
Cuz love'll get you killed here
Sip beer and grab the wine, for my time
Out my mind on the highway to heaven
Taking rap cloud nine
I keep the doubt in mine
Should of known that Hass gon' shine
How could you doubt mine? Shine