Raekwon, Lyfe Jennings - Catalina lyrics

Where is he? Concentrate on the job
Don't disturb the doctor

Yeah, word up who said we ain't the
Definition of exclusive shit?
Real rap, you know
Yeah, this is multi expensive rap here
Brother word up, time to recreate the power
You know what it is, man
Nothing but gangsta shit, baby
Let's go Doc, I need that prescription
Aiyo, aiyo

I grew up on the foul side
Nickel bag vial side
Purple tops, two for fives
I had seven grams
Outside with my eleven mans
On the corners with a
Pocket full of contrabands
Running up and down fire escapes
NARCs coming
Jump in the window, let your Nikes fly
Hide the flakes
Guess up in the Hill it was real to me
What a nigga would of did
If you steal from me
All my life around drug niggas
Villains who want millions
Niggas with them hoodies on
With techs in the building
Mad fiends, bags of green, Gillette razors
Fly neighbors, all live blazers
Designer jeans that's why we live
Niggas need shit in they crib
Go broke, you gonna rope you a vic'
It's just full-time stragglers
Niggas try to take your place
And smile in your face
But still and all backstabbers

I was trying to get home
Leave a couple mil' to my kids when I'm gone
Nigga, that ain't cologne
It's the smell of this money
I was trying to get home
Cuz I don't know when my karma gon' catch up
I don't know when the toilet gon' back up
And put me in some shit
That I can't get out of

Come on, bags of money
Trying to stay rich and fly
Keep it cool, silks and dungarees
Crew glasses and food
Grilled salmon trying to make a move
Those who knowing they be dapping they dudes
How it do, blow a lot of cruise
Stay in the cut
Pacing, from here to LA, and Hawaii and Cuba
Blew new uzi too, serial numbers is brail
So when you rub against it feel all twos
Now I'm with some special niggas
Next level niggas with rubble bezzles
Who drive Exeleros with jewels
Brolic boots on, olive Goose
Calamari soups and noodles
That spell out, ya'll niggas the truth
What it is baby boy
Reclining in the big Benz
La-Z-Boy, ends uped, lenses on, chips a'hoy
Shipping triple, niggas try to stop the issue
And cock blocked but can't stop the official
What

I was trying to get home
Leave a couple mil' to my kids when I'm gone
Nigga, that ain't cologne
It's the smell of this money
I was trying to get home
Cuz I don't know when my karma gon' catch up
I don't know when the toilet gon' back up
And put me in some shit
That I can't get out of yeah, for real, man
Word up, we gon' keep it official
We gon' make sure ya'll get
That raw shit man, yeah
Compliments of my niggas, yeah, yeah, Dre
This is powerful, baby, we
Gon' take 'em there, man
Locomotive, bulletproof fly shit, let's go