Styles P - One More Step lyrics

Ciphers in front of The Apollo as a shorty Now I got a clip full of hollows in the.40 Louis, Guccis, every now and then Mauris I take too long to come back, send for me Know how to work it, big things pop on the underground circuit Maintain 'til it surface The nerve of these peasants Treat a rap budget like a bird how I stretch it Think they get the message Waters, Dutchies, lot of herb in a session So-called tough guys, herbs with aggression Put your thoughts all over the curb with the Wesson What used to be superb now is depressing Negative energy Generated from the snakes and the centipedes You will remember me I just get the storm started Cold-blooded, warm-hearted Either way you on target Move to the side, let the lane merge The gun's like fried rice, who want they brain stirred? Enter the limelight, lemon drop-top off of crime life Always see the crew in the hindsight Yeah! American sedan, the shooters got Berettas in their hand This is Mafia, veterans'll plan Word to the tape on the brick, this is raw I'm in the 4x4, 8 plus 8 in the clip The hustling Harry Potter, shaking the brick Ice in the bracelet give the Matrix a glitch And my car's like a spaceship Got gold in my Nike checks Jordans got ice in the laces Pants got a gun where the waist is It's basic, shirt smell like herb smoke Chirp, yo, Chirp back Let me know who getting murked, though Yeah, we getting money, n***a Who getting work, though And I got the Kush, n***a I got the Purple, move squares 'Cause we got a hold on the circle k** you or hurt you, whatever's a virtue Beat you like ya parents when you breaking your curfew [Chorus] Homie, live life to the d**h We gonna make it to the top, just one more step Get this money, it don't matter if it's cash or check We gonna make it to the top, just one more step Big houses, cars and j**els that's wet We gonna make it to the top, just one more step To the family, friends, whole life is set We gonna make it to the top, just one more step, one more step Yo, living my life, what's left of it Don't try to go to jail but if you do make the best of it If you crash into a bullet then it ain't no estimate It's a money-back guarantee, my n***a d**h's a definite This is audio crack, guess who's cheffing it Jadakiss and SP, do this effortless Gun play make you do whatever son say If the Lord send you a flight, the ticket is one-way Put that work in when you young, you get power The money don't match the running it get sour Still rep the hood to the d**h A promise is only good if it's kept n***as'll k** you for less Silence is golden, go 'head, keep dozing The window of opportunity keeps closing We gon' see if you really a clutch baller A cell is small, but a casket is much smaller Burn out 30 a set sh**, 60 a Key sh** That's street sh**, Jada & P sh** Lambos, hoopties, shooters and groupies Montclair, D-Squared, Emilio Pucci Long trips, short trips, making me nauseous Court sh**, gave them Jews money for Porsches Made a couple mil for the small sh** We rap and keep raw, so we on some street lore-Forbes sh** Wall still spin, upgraded the floor flip Ain't touch it, ain't see it, ain't hear about it If it's money gone, believe we gon' care about Send some n***as to your crib, take the air up out it Leave some blood up in it Listen, fam, the Lam's the color of toast The seats is like bu*ter in it No hammers in the club, box cutter in it Long money and big checks Get popped in the chest, face, wig, neck Tre Pound, Sig, Tec Play the game, get a plane is ya ship wreck Learn from the best if you ain't learn sh** yet Yeah! Motherf**er [Chorus]