Shyheim - Coke Spot Ceiling lyrics

Uh, huh, yeah, Hue Hefna
Caniven, Shyheim I see you, nigga
Staten Island, joop, Staten Island

Pow, what a runner up, pow
With ya gunners up
Gun jammed, when he shoot
It sound like a muffler
Whole block covered up, nigga
What's the verdict?
Can my lawyer know statments
Couple thou' for the cover up hue Hef, baby
Make these ladies get they buns up
I'm somewhat superfly
Pimping got my funds up
Gotta be the cane or the Jag
Like "Listen, chick, I'm the shit, just sit
Like a lot of meat bags"
I hit the strip, for the flip
Got Monopoly bags
Now listen, prick, so sick
You still copping them halves
Long dick, just lips, no cock in the ass
Ya baby mama, still popping that ass
But that's different story
Get the picture for me
Make you visit pergatory
Workers'll be working for me
But that's a different story
They cock-blocking my fetti
I kill the streets cuz I ain't trying
To do Life like Martin and Eddie, nigga

Damn, it feel good to come up
Rip big eighths
Every other day, I get off at half a K
Cambridge niggas say I remind 'em of J
How I'm stuck in my hustling ways
Everything custom made cuz customers pay
I ain't sell to a fiend in a whole year
Anything nickel, got my work, is out there
Either, under his building, or OT building
Stamp my dope Toyota, oh what a feeling
Flow gritty like the, coke spot ceiling
My how I've grown, I talk
Greezy, like the wall
That's in back of the stove
I'm a pimp and a hustler
What's fucking with that?
Use a throne as a slingshot, picture my crack
The outfit's so hot
I could leave it on the corner
With numbers 'ttached to it and
The bitches gon' call us
I'm always in my kitchen, cooking something
I cook so much
They call me stove top stuffing
My whole hood real
We give dap with the right boot
Everything's direct, see my hands don't move

Ghetto philosophy, that's what I write
Shit's been fucked up
I ain't lucked up my whole life
So I eat off the street, just like possums do
Niggas watch my moves and say
"Ooh" like I'm shooting hoops
Call me M-16 Shyheim
I cut more niggas than a
Coach of a basketball team
Enemy, all sexy see-through lace
Short pussy
You should walk with a thong on ya face
I don't play games
I make niggas ashes in a vase
Nowadays, niggas wanna Malcolm X
Me on the stage let's blaze like haze
But, I read and comprehend like
Words on a page i don't play

I break jaws, take phones up off of the waist
When I draw, I make sure it all hit ya face
I ate more
Since that cake came up off of ya plate
Now all I need is my ice and cream
And I don't like gleam
But, I still look nice in rings
Watches and bracelets
Look, watches The Matrix
When I falls in the air
You gon' pause in the air
Alley oop, nigga, catch 'em all in the air
Now re-coup, niggas, catching all of the air
Flying past your way, flying past your pit
"That ain't my girl", ya lying, nigga
Cuz that's yo' chick
I grabbed that quick, switchblade on yo' ass
Soon that Mag'll go click-click
Bang on ya ass
Cuz I move, slow, with the poked out gat
Cuz you know, po-po know where it go down at
When I throw
I leave four inside that broke down Ac
And now you acting like you don't know that
I bet you won't go back to that block
Where I stopped and hit up
Popped ya whip up, pop holes in ya Aqua VW
Nigga, do you really understand?
Hurricanes, tornados
Earthquakes or volcanoes
Couldn't match my destruction
I clap by the dozen the clip, spit's
When it's attached to the oven
Get trapped in the dungeons where
The snakes just play haha