Styles P - So Appalled (Freestyle/Remix) lyrics

[Verse 1: Jadakiss] So sick of it Run up in your crib, just for the sake of stickin' it Yeah, I'm ridiculous I know this is Kanye's track, but I'm kissin' it Still laughin' at these cats, like I'm ticklish Just somethin' about that sh**, I like flippin' it The world's back on my dick, I'm Mike Vick'n it co*k back and squeeze, only right that you squirt off Soon as I leave the building, they turn the alert off Only thing I need to know is can you knock the work off Fifth Ave, spendin' crack money up in Bergdorf Leave that boy alone; I wouldn't recommend it Half a mil worth of V-V's, independent Everything is splendid, all fine and dandy Hood-rich is one point nine off the candy [?] sweat suit, thermal on with the [?] Grilled tilapia, steamed salmon, or the scampi Snakes still squirmin'; haze off sherm, and Block is like the nickel boy days in the Vernon Chrome four-fif'n, cause they still snitchin' The pool's in the living room, swim to the kitchen I'm so appalled; I'm better than 'em all I rip an arena just like a hole in the wall Spend a few stacks on some hoes in the mall Real n***as is either in the hole or the morgue Enemies is cool, loved ones'll hurt you Dishonor before d**h, yeah, vice-versa Elegant performance, my stash is enormous Real talk: New York's been mine for the longest Strong ones'll make it, weak ones'll suffocate I keep it in the 'hood, so it's easy to resuscitate Life's like a milk crate, nothin' like a beach, kid Good cardigan over the True's, nice feet-wear Yeah.. [Verse 2: Styles P] Yeah Hustle like an African, mother from the motherland Work in the zip-lock, money in the rubber band If the cops don't blitz, then I'm lucky I want the eighth floor of the Ritz, like Nucky Empire, like A-C from K-C Kitchen cook; step up in the spot, all the b**hes look Eastbound down like Kenny Powers Bricks is in the Dodge Neon, but it's Hemi-powered, any hour This could be a seven-digit flip Send a kite to the bing to get seven n***as ripped Get the top ten list and get seven n***as clipped I used to just ride on the seven bus Now I let it bubble like Seven-Up That was five sevens, you could die with a three in front Need money, need p**y, need liquor, need a blunt Wanna f** with me, n***a? You gon' need a gun Money over b**hes, but respect over money, though Loyalty'll have you on the boat to the bungalow What you know about eatin' with the old man? Tell the truth, this rap sh** wasn't in the program Sittin' on crates, to pickin' up weight You gotta lift open the crate; tryin' to get my n***as straight Ridiculous, I would even say this on tape (Ayo Kiss) And you say New York City, that the world is very different now Gun-light is my phone, real easy to lift it now I'm so appalled Shoot the pallbearers at your motherf**in' funeral and treat 'em like dogs Cause it's a motherf**in' war n***a! D-Block! Act like ya know, b**h!