Harry Fraud - Drug Lords lyrics

1,2 Straight Up (La Música de Harry Fraud) [Chorus: Meyhem Lauren) Catch us on stage looking like drug lords Pen paragraphs for all my n***as that sling swords Whips, chain seasonal, roofs get removed b**hes baggin bundles new, our vocals getting EQ Live n***a rap, real talk that's us (us) Cashmere everything, gats that bust (bust) Outdoors, break laws, the streets we trust Make noise, never talk to the boys, let em discuss [Verse 1: AG Da Coroner] Call the doctor, lay you where you eat your pasta With big choppers, from the rastas in the helicopter Video games, we don't play PS3 rappers get broken in broad day Right on Myrtle and Broadway Run up in the (b**by?/movie?) spot and hit em where they all stay Family ties, reason why your family cries While a n***a shorty wop with vanity eyes We the stars of our own movies Sly Stallone couldn't move me Feet up on the sofa rolling a doobie I walk with the strength of ten million hood n***as Who like to cause ruckus and love to pull triggers Habitual line steppers always trying to undercut Name on a dotted line, reserve the right to f** you up I'm Kobe with the rock, you a 4th quarter Lebron n***a, ready to slop [Verse 2: Meyhem Lauren] Back to that other sh**, listing like a wet seal Work phone ringing, fiends looking for a fresh deal Blind stances turn the mind trances Shorty's flat footed but her nose does line dances I love that intricate thug rap, supply it often They tried to clip my wings I'll never be retired flossing Sipping silent, thinking violent, call it quiet saucing The j**els I've picked up over years is an acquired fortune Been burning sh** consecutive, we never tire torchin' Your reputation has no juice, me I'm admired often b**hes wanna smoke, we give them floral rinses That pa** they mouth around and turn them to a oral princess It's just the way we move, welcome to NY Meisterstück, in the coop, n***a my pen fly ?Snake sour? shower your whip, if it's a time of war We use to grind with raw, hustlin' in the fine velour [Verse 3: Action Bronson] Couple dollars in a fiend (cheese) pocket Scurry to the side of the building to cop it Scurry back to the lobby to rock it I'm talking white Olivia Dukakis, Joan Cusack Suede shoe, blue coupe roof back (Ayo the cops comin) Boof that Then break it down so you can toot-toot-a-loot that Straight from Queens, loafer to the pedal Steaks are medium rare, hosted for the metal (medal?) I'm getting closer with the Devil I won't stop til there's an ocean on the bezel Sand art in my weed jar Did a backflip right into the window of the green car Then I peel like an orange, leather outfits Martin Lawrence Three prongs on the pasta fork, spin the bucatini Doo doo stains in the joint It's me [Hook]