Solomon Childs - Fire at Your Own Risk lyrics

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Solomon Childs - Fire at Your Own Risk lyrics

[Intro: Solomon Childs] What you say, New York City? (I am Staten Island, man) Here we go (here we go) n***as don't want it with me, son I'm tellin' you, man, I got the sh** on my back, man Ya'll muthaf**as, kneel and kiss the ring, the king is here [Chorus: Solomon Childs] Fire at your own risk, murder with the steel grip n***as talk a lot of sh** (n***as don't want it with me, son I'm tellin' you, man, I got the sh** on my back, man) Fire at your own risk, murder with the steel grip n***as talk a lot of sh** (ya'll muthaf**as kneel And kiss the ring, the king is here) [Solomon Childs] Time to bring the industry back to order Work kingpin orders, stab nothing less than quarters Results of been, nothing less than manslaughter I want blood, the government left my fam to drown in Louisiana Don't be suprised if you see me on top of a building Smoke coming from the nose of the hammer Louisville like pitbulls, sippin' gasoline Shooting guard to this New York dream team Been blowing them down since Grand Puba was getting skins Even when Rakim and Jody Whatley was talking about friends Life's a two-faced b**h with street credibility and jail pens So fire at your own risk, murder with the steel grip These n***as talk a lot of sh** [Chorus] [Solomon Childs] This that intense adrenaline, like Red Bull with Bloody Mary Pit life, push the powder down Blood mota, big up to Washington Heights Known for coke in the donias, with k** in my eyes Like Red Soldier, wicked and paralyzed with amonia My watch, in the Cuban polar, clientele been strong Since the fat Oprah, batteries keep the socks heated Ain't too much busting in the air, nowadays Got to keep the ammo from when the beef is needed sh** gotta be the raw base, or riz at the piff That keeps me on my grind, money grip Money on my mind, like Lil' Flip Lil' Wayne, sh**, Young Jeezy Young transporter, count a little, camcorder My ancestors run these corners After West Brighton slaughter house, spark a techs They be yelling "Billy Kid was black" With a German six shooter, venom'll eat cha insides like a cougar Nowadays the guns are called boomers You gon' be praying to Latter Day Saints These n***as imitate sh**, like a kid with his cape So you can fire at your own risk, or murder with the steel grip Cuz n***as talk a lot of sh** Telling you, these n***as talk a lot of sh** [Chorus] [Outro: Solomon Childs] Twenty Oh bixs, n***a, what's really good? f** all them other bullsh** albus coming out with this year