Styles P - Fame lyrics

[Intro] You know it's all about (fame, fame) You know it's all about (fame) [Verse 1: U-God] I'm a winner in my book Lean Cuisine in the kitchen, the fly cook In the air like Kareem and the sky hook Def juxt, my left hook This is easy work The mic mechanics, see the greasy shirt This is easy perks Photo 2-stepped out of the chopper My b**h know she cute Manolo boots keep cussin' at the hustlers How you gon' get loot, you're cussin' out the customers No sales, you better have my cash If the feds don't grab me, I got lots of plans I'll need goals, the all-star cast In the leading role, call it cruise control Everything is shakable, everything is takable No chinks in my armor, I'm feeling unbreakable Swimming through the sharks tank, I'm top rank for the [Hook: U-God] (Fame) For the (fame) For the (fame) For the (fame) For the (fame) For the (fame) [Verse 2: U-God] On my arm I draw ink, resemble war tank The gla** tipper, spilling up more drink All I do is think of ways to smash 'em Eyes on me, rise for the anthem Rings like Green Lantern in the green Phantom Talk of the town, "Don't he look handsome?" You're little league, you owe me major debt It's the takeover, I'm cashing European checks Brush your teeth, I'm your early morning toothache Stomp the roach, this is how my boot taste Cotton candy, hot sippin' brandy Pa** me my suitcase you skinny pants fruitcake Listen to the grime when it's mixed with crime A dozen of my rhyme books, you're stalkin' on my timeline From the foul line back to the huddle Writin' tracks on the bullet train to the shuttle for the [Hook] [Verse 3: Styles P] Raised by wolves like the book by Prevario Did a lot of dirt but never would say sorry though Wild like the latin boys down in El Barrio Crook on the juxt then you better do your cardio Run to him or run from him He's a k**er so you can't take his gun from him He bagged coke so his hands feel numb from him He's a cold-hearted ba*tard, better dumb dumb him Preferably a .45, my job is making sure If they violate the big man, the little shorty ride Out in the stretcher in the ambalance Me, I let the hammer blam for n***as Moving grams on the hand to hand If I'm talking snow, it's a avalanche I ain't thinking of rap, catch me in the battle stance Yeah it's the Ghost, motherf**er Guns, rappers and blunts, yeah I smoke motherf**ers [Verse 4: U-God] Check out my drunk dance, the k**ah Hill redbone Put that on my headstone, you see the gemstone? Caught it in the endzone, headphones Dr. Dre The new sensation, yeah I got a lot to say Let him speak, he's so misunderstood Let him speak, the new voice of the hood Never had the hype, always had the heart Keep it simple and sharp, then I land on the charts for the [Hook]