Iman T.H.U.G. - Our Way lyrics

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Iman T.H.U.G. - Our Way lyrics

[Capone Talking] [Noreaga talking in background] I want n***as to bang out to this sh** n***as drive drunk to this sh** Drive drunk to this (14x) Drive drunk drive drunk (1x) [Chorus: Capone-N-Noreaga] We doing this our way (yeah motherf**er we doing it our way now) I think its our way, I think its our way If you don't like it hit the highway (hit the highway n***a get the f** up outta here) I think its our way, I think its our way We doing this our way (yeah yeah we doing it our way like its f**ing pose to be) I think its our way, I think its our way Til we hit hundred on the highway (five the six) [Iman Thug] Call me the black machine gun jack megern Touching my good making sure the ba*tards learn Smash the burn No time for fronting its nothing Gets yours while I get mine not nothing We flows with the ratical Tongue mathematical Cut n***as bent up sh** with dirty attitudes That's the way the world go round and round Henny, bud on our dome like pound for pound Peep the grimist We high profile locist Thugged out 41st side smokers Now who you know Get down like us Gats bust empty out rounds that gust Can't stand overpaid a** Fronting a** b**h Kicking to my n***as like they don't want dick Dirting in the club While her man couple of a drinks All my n***as in the V.I.P. doing our thing Chorus (1x) [Noreaga] Yo money bust snaps for pocket And I don't dance I get head And I don't even iron my pants I got a dead steel Why'all n***as ran with your legs still I.ll make you lose calories without the treadmill From New York but still I been hating the knicks And f** jordan but still I be rocking his kicks My n***a Nas told me Take your hoe to the flicks And if she don't give you brain then you dodge the b**h We from Queens The dro is like hard to get We got to travel up to Harlem where its hot as sh** Yo its Melvin the african godfather So yo god bother You want to taste the revolver I dead dun I shot toe then run Now stay motherf**er give head to the gun Stay on son Itchy bon like number one It's the QB album that us bless this dun Chorus (1x) [Capone] I stand on the block Fully baked hand on my co*k Old heads flirting saying I resemble my pops I put work in I'm the street in the sickest version No crowd n***as collect my person to person I buck right if my left hurting I'm double jointed Ducking the cops they stay searching The elevators ain't working the steps too pissy Thoro bread god son rep the bridge with me I pull up in the S50 plus five Let the thugs fly Now everybody tough guys Its murder in these blood eyes Like I ain't got sh** to live for f** a thugs cry n***a shoot that's why god put em here for I been on the booze hit a buck on the highway Been in my shoes I'm thuggin rich make my own rules Its time glory and pain I'm still with kane I got O's dog for six fifties remember the name Capone n***a Chorus (1x) [All] Ain't nothing but a Queens thing baby Three bent n***as straight going crazy Hennessy is the drink that fades me Bang out to this sh** baby (2x) [All talking]