The LOX

The LOX - New York Rap lyrics

rate me

Sheek Louch

LOX!

What’s ya name again? Donnie G (D-Block!)

Who else wit’ you, fam? (S-P!)

Wave the Ruger at these haters

This New York rap, who else wit’ you? (Al Qaeda)

Don-Don, 38 revolve in the brown bag

Money in the pocket, when I walk, my pants sag

In and out of town, that’s why the God look jet-lagged

Sheek’s still bangin’, I ain’t wavin’ the red flag

The curse of Bin Laden, boats don’t float across

His ghostly bones said “Rise up with green moss”

Uh, smoke blowin’ on a weave

Audie on the sleeve, Louis Vs in the breeze

Condos in Miami, I ain’t even use the keys

Women and fast cars, some of my pet peeves

Cash and big guns, be wit’ them OGs

Levis, white ups, City Lab tees

Nick said “Nate, the Yanks gotta bring it home” (New York!)

Them Dirty Harrys sittin’ on me, all chrome

Public enemy, welcome to the terrordome

This UK money, my phone stay home, I roam

Safety on Glock, ice on rock

I rep Biggie since Rick Ross reppin’ Pac

Styles P

I don’t like too many rappers, or niggas

If you see me talkin’ to cowards, it’s all figgas

Gotta be ready to die to war wit’ us

Yeah, we three deep, but there’s plenty of more wit’ us

Chop it up, bag it up, set it up

I got a problem on the strip, I’ll wet it up

I could get a ton on the arm, getcha credit up

Talkin’ to the pilot on the Palm, then a Senator

You fakin’, nigga, I get it shakin’

I’ll shoot your wife at the dinner table like Taken

I did dirt since Krush Groove and Breakin’

Now they got a Biggie movie, Pac comin’ next

You can suck my dick, you said The LOX ain’t the best

Now yell pause and no homo that

And get a bullet in ya fitted where the logo at

Yeah, another one by the NE sign

Stab him in the face with the pen he signed

Now that’s that, turn ya fitted to a snapback

Jadakiss

Yo, I’m the one that make the car start: Engine

Hard liquor, two weeks straight, nigga: Bingin’

This dope, getcha sniff on or syringe in

I’m really in these streets, they pretendin’

You compare him to these creeps? You offend him

Water and oil, you don’t mix, you can’t blend them

Trunk fulla powder, cook it when I get there

It’s me all alone on the throne, yeah, I sit there

Now just let the haze burn

Bullets don’t ever change, they always burn

Majority is snakes, the rest is straight worms

Everybody’s a baller, then I must be Dave Stern

Virus, whenever I spit, I spray germs

Who else been nice for this long and stayed firm?

Donnie G, the Phantom, and Al Qaeda

L-O-X, the criminology coordinators

(What?)

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Thanks to adrianna

Get this song at:  amazon.com  sheetmusicplus.com

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