Cam'ron - Dead The Funeral lyrics

k**a 'For leaf big blowgun, f*g n***a's b**h, doj' an' Peach chrome, sick Rover, Zeke home so bend over He looked at me and said "k**a I'll be your kitchen pitcher, the bing was rough" I said n***a I did the bid wit' ya Capiche, not Mona Lisa it's the big picture Six scriptures, six blickers, grip triggers, strip n***az The Big Dipper, swig liquor, big liver Now that you home watch the sh** differ, I dig n***a Soon as a n***a whisper, believe we jiggin' Jigga He Elton Brand in a barber chair, he'll get the Clippers I don't care who you are, the point, don't be stupid pa We celebrities with guns, shooting stars Yeah remove ya bras, a few of ours in through-in cars Spray 21, Blackjack, I knew ya cards Kid roll, Peter Rowe like Kennedy Friends with me at the graveyard, visits from old enemies Some b**hed, some snitched, some owed us dough Piss on the tombstone, write on it, "Told you so" Check my portfolio, I was poor then rose to dough KNow what I'm about in a drought I score, overflow I'm the waterboy, wet work for water call The price is nice, TLC, some waterfalls Fiends snort it all, this fact I report to y'all Go inside, extort them all, from short to tall you oughta ball And where the ballas live and all my friends all to win This the second time around, that sh** you call again Damn yo' lady fine, you been on yo' baby grind Me I'm 86, highest temp, P-89s Everyday we shine, fine, don't pay me mind My watches are retarded, you can call 'em crazy times Mines are more than brothers We gon' rock til the Range, Benz, and Porsches clutter Garage, a**orted colors Yeah Crayola box, for that, payola doc I'll lay you over a stroller with the strangest odor ock Is it over not, huh, we immune to you We shoot the wake up, striaght up and dead the funeral Ay yo hold the f** up I said we gon' shoot the wake up and dead the fu-- You dead already we gon' dead the fu-- Matter fact son, bring that sh** back up, f** it And you heard Rell, I do worst than foul They murdered Roberta, lawyer murdered murder trials We deserve to style, walk on Persian tile On the island with millions, Durst to Al I get cake in layers, not the Daily News But when I flip, I make the papers, hate the mayor I'm a gangsta, I f** ma, go date a player Man these dudes are fish market, straight fillet ya Went to war with Kromo, then Pataki Then Guilliani, then I went to North Cackalacky What you gon' tell a mobster, cake was hella proper No Petey Pablo when I saw them helicopters That's the letter n***az, trinckets from the ghetto bird Her word said I gave the whole ghetto birds Man your case go find it, need a new a**ignment That ain't giving out, first of all that's call for silent Contest to play You got no gunwounds, jail time, felonies, real sh** on your resume I get you extra yay, not tomorrow, yesterday If they ask, never say, snitch and we never play, ay