Filip Filipi, Bezel, Tom Gist, Cam’ron - Thanks To Me lyrics

Sin canadai'm here baby, Tom Gist
This is Harlem, aka Harlem i'm withchu

Yo 745, color peacan or lime
Butter peacan inside
Heat clap, if you outta line
Bottom of the pot
(geah) ,  rise like ammonia (geah)
Hit the mottorola
(geah) , Sin whip up the cola
What these eyes seen,  you can't envision
You get clapped and your fam miss you
You get jacked for that Expedition
(muthafucker) load and fill up the clips
Squeeze and reload the shit
Still ain't give up the whip
Ninas and 44's sing like Nina Simone
Heaters eat at ya bones
Steam you with rachets homes
Kid was playin Menace, I was kitchen chemist
Number one with the most 'dro
Crack and of course blow (Dip Set)

Ugh that's just what I sold though
Four Tops, four seconds
Four rocks, four buildings (four blocks)
Shout to the four building
It's like Fort Knox
And them bullets like free throws though
Sure shots

I show you how gangstas do, how gangstas be
How gangstas move, How gangstas speak
If this ain't gangsta, than what is gangsta b
Now everybody wanna be certifed, Thanks to me
I show you how gangstas do, how gangstas be
How gangstas move, How gangstas speak
If this ain't gangsta, than what is gangsta b
Now everybody wanna be certifed, Thanks to me

Sin whats good nigga
It's your boy Bezel, Dip Set's own nigga
Pro V you crazy for this one

Cheaaaaaaaa i handle the dope (dope)
Move grams of the coke (coke)
The weapon pound
Breakfast style - jam and a toast (toast)
If he don't die from the
Lead that the snub toss
Give him a couple hours he'll be
Dead from the blood loss
Shots in the hawk piece
I cock it and spark heat
Blow gats, no rap, nigga the talk cheap
My nicks be droppin they hot
Beats to heavy caine
They got Eddie Kane dropped
From the heart beats
I be hangin with Squeak
Blowin gank in the jeep (jeep)
Slang O's
Chain froze from the links to the piece
(piece) and if I'm bangin the 2
I put your brain on your shoes
Just to see if you can think on your feet
A lot of niggas talkin this bullcrap
Like when you pop Glocks
Make sure the safety is pulled back (huh)
My real niggas
They gettin what I'm talkin about
And if not
That's the bullshit that I'm talkin about
I'm on the block again
Hoes don't mind hoppin in
Cuz I'm in the sign for water
Minus the oxygen
That's a H2, I'm gettin cake boo
2 whores, deuce-fours
Everytime I skate through

Gist
I got a mighty chrome for you ma-ri-cons
Gun bangin like
The J witness when nobody home
Tom Gist, thats a fly nigga 2005 Guy Fisher
With that AR 15 I die with ya
See I'm monster, know it (know it)
This is the Harlem poet
Have you in the room full of heat
Feelin claustrophobic
No diagnosis, I'm just sicker thinkin crack
While I'm spittin cocaine and
I'm bleedin liquor i'm a disease in ya
Leave you paralyzed then re-enter
I'm memory erasin', you re-member (nah)
The kid is brain cancer
I make you change answers
Cuz I make the fiends lean
Like Big Daddy Kane dancers
And I'm speakin evil
See we will clap and you die
The verbal natural high
You won't need a needle
Your heart frail, Tom Gist do the art well
Keep thinkin you Boxdale
You more like a Shark Tale