Marcus Camby Songtext
von Curren$y & Harry Fraud
Marcus Camby Songtext
(La Música de Harry Fraud)
Yeah
Briefcase, backseat, paper, tape to the freak
From her titties to her feet, just gotta get up to the plane
And then we obligation-free
Nervous still, behind the iron curtain as I light the kill
Before I take the stage, start a rage when I speak, 512 Ferrar′
Manual transmission still buggin', I don′t drive it
Just look at that motherfucker e'ry mornin'
Perhaps a birthday gift to one of the homies
But he done bought himself one by now if he really want it
′Cause we hustlers, we don′t wait for nothin'
While them other fools be frontin′
The dealer calls to inform us what they got comin'
Just in case we want somethin′, my bitch been chillin' lately
So perhaps a cabriolet Mercedes, maybe not
Perhaps a Rolex with the box
While them other suckas shop at the pawn shop
For jewelry, the block is hot, the ice cold at my house
Nigga, I′m cooler
Da-da, da-da, da-da, da-da, yeah
Never sleepin', duckin' and divin′ as I do my thang
Da-da, da-da, da-da, da-da, yeah
Never sleepin′, duckin' and divin′ as I do my thang
Smoke weed and the bitch don't post me in yo′ pictures
Think again, I'm in the wind, now they′re wonderin' how I do it
Smoke weed and the bitch don't post me in yo′ pictures
Think again, I′m in the wind, now they're wonderin′ how I do it
Capo, I'm just tellin′ my truth, nigga, I ain't the type to cop the loafers (gimme a pair)
I′m gettin' real money, nigga, I can brag with the bolsters
I'm puttin′ champagne flutes on the top of Versace coasters
I got bread for the lawyers if my niggas get knocked by the toasters (call my lawyer up)
We was takin′ trips to Miami just to get that Miami price ('02, ′03)
Don't get knocked by the Crockett and Tubbs just like its Miami Vice (sheesh)
If you did know the plug, he might hit you with that family price
I was gettin′ them Knicks off in New York just for the Camby price (23 at the time)
The market value at the time was like 23-a-gram
And the fiends knew you had the butter as soon as they got to see the tan (whip it)
We was takin' trips out of town, we started with that Peter Pan (early stage)
Yankee fitted on, now I was lookin′ like a Derek Jeter fan (woo)
Now we on cigarette boats blowin' blunts on 'em (skrt)
Private docks in Miami just before we jump on ′em
Plain Jane Offshore Audemars with the little bumps on ′em
F&N stuffed up in the cooler in case we gotta dump on 'em
Da-da, da-da, da-da, da-da, yeah
Never sleepin′, duckin' and divin′ as I do my thang
Da-da, da-da, da-da, da-da, yeah
Never sleepin', duckin′ and divin' as I do my thang
Smoke weed and the bitch don't post me in yo′ pictures
Think again, I′m in the wind, now they're wonderin′ how I do it
Smoke weed and the bitch don't post me in yo′ pictures
Think again, I'm in the wind, now they′re wonderin' how I do it
Yeah
Briefcase, backseat, paper, tape to the freak
From her titties to her feet, just gotta get up to the plane
And then we obligation-free
Nervous still, behind the iron curtain as I light the kill
Before I take the stage, start a rage when I speak, 512 Ferrar′
Manual transmission still buggin', I don′t drive it
Just look at that motherfucker e'ry mornin'
Perhaps a birthday gift to one of the homies
But he done bought himself one by now if he really want it
′Cause we hustlers, we don′t wait for nothin'
While them other fools be frontin′
The dealer calls to inform us what they got comin'
Just in case we want somethin′, my bitch been chillin' lately
So perhaps a cabriolet Mercedes, maybe not
Perhaps a Rolex with the box
While them other suckas shop at the pawn shop
For jewelry, the block is hot, the ice cold at my house
Nigga, I′m cooler
Da-da, da-da, da-da, da-da, yeah
Never sleepin', duckin' and divin′ as I do my thang
Da-da, da-da, da-da, da-da, yeah
Never sleepin′, duckin' and divin′ as I do my thang
Smoke weed and the bitch don't post me in yo′ pictures
Think again, I'm in the wind, now they′re wonderin' how I do it
Smoke weed and the bitch don't post me in yo′ pictures
Think again, I′m in the wind, now they're wonderin′ how I do it
Capo, I'm just tellin′ my truth, nigga, I ain't the type to cop the loafers (gimme a pair)
I′m gettin' real money, nigga, I can brag with the bolsters
I'm puttin′ champagne flutes on the top of Versace coasters
I got bread for the lawyers if my niggas get knocked by the toasters (call my lawyer up)
We was takin′ trips to Miami just to get that Miami price ('02, ′03)
Don't get knocked by the Crockett and Tubbs just like its Miami Vice (sheesh)
If you did know the plug, he might hit you with that family price
I was gettin′ them Knicks off in New York just for the Camby price (23 at the time)
The market value at the time was like 23-a-gram
And the fiends knew you had the butter as soon as they got to see the tan (whip it)
We was takin' trips out of town, we started with that Peter Pan (early stage)
Yankee fitted on, now I was lookin′ like a Derek Jeter fan (woo)
Now we on cigarette boats blowin' blunts on 'em (skrt)
Private docks in Miami just before we jump on ′em
Plain Jane Offshore Audemars with the little bumps on ′em
F&N stuffed up in the cooler in case we gotta dump on 'em
Da-da, da-da, da-da, da-da, yeah
Never sleepin′, duckin' and divin′ as I do my thang
Da-da, da-da, da-da, da-da, yeah
Never sleepin', duckin′ and divin' as I do my thang
Smoke weed and the bitch don't post me in yo′ pictures
Think again, I′m in the wind, now they're wonderin′ how I do it
Smoke weed and the bitch don't post me in yo′ pictures
Think again, I'm in the wind, now they′re wonderin' how I do it
Writer(s): Rory William Quigley, Joseph Guillermo Jones Ii, Shante Scott, Tommy Wright Iii Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
