[Intro]
One, two
Check, one, two
One, two, who got more style than son do?
One, two
Check, one, two
One, two, who got more style than son do?
Check, one, two
[Verse 1]
Yo, I’m hot like 95 Fahrenheit
On a summer night, tight spot where bodies rot
Rats drink from water drops, in the streets, niggas
Little kids scared cops, with red dots
Philosophical gangsta, with violent priors
Going back like black and white TVs with pliers
Leaning on broke down cars with flat tires
Flash iron on anybody trying on the blocks I’m supplying on
Mad icon, my peeps tie ballons up and swallow ’em
And the penile got goons, lots of ’em
Cops see them and run, don’t want no drama
Certain parts of the streets, the beast don’t want a part of
Martyr, hood haunted like the Dakota qhere John Lennon was shot up
But he sang for peace, he begged for freedom
Hanged with wild Jamaicans from Kingston, who drink Irish Moss
Listening to Peter Winston McIntosh
Lightning hits the top of the church steeple
When I’m writing, semi-automatic, no hyphen
It’s frightening
[Hook]
The thief’s theme, play me at night, they won’t act right
Understandable smooth shit, that murderers move with
The thief’s theme, play me at night, they won’t act right
Understandable smooth shit, that murderers move with
The thief’s theme, play me at night, they won’t act right
Understandable smooth shit, that murderers move with
The thief’s theme, play me at night, they won’t act right
Understandable smooth shit, that murderers move with
[Verse 2]
I take summers off, ’cause I love winter beef
Started ’87, with the shotty in the sheep
Three-quarter length, beige, dressed to kill
Bust a shell at the ground, pellets hit the crowd
Nobody like a snitch, everybody shut they mouth
Woolrich, Carhartt, gun powder stains
Smelling like trees, sensimille on the brain
Scheming on your girls, bamboos on your chain
Got ill up on the train
Twisting off a cap of Olde English, in my vain
Might’ve pushed you on the tracks
Deaf crack fiends who can’t speak, scream noises
‘Cause she bought a jum of soap from one of my boys
It’s just another day in the hood
And I’m with some wild brothers, up to no good
We saw the movies, like Tony Montana and ’em
But our style was “let them pile, then we robbin ’em”
Money dudes, make ’em come up out they shoes
Run they jewels, word is bond, where my man Nino going
And I had to make a song, speaking on my old life
For the thieves who come out at night
[Hook]
The thief’s theme, play me at night, they won’t act right
Understandable smooth shit, that murderers move with
The thief’s theme, play me at night, they won’t act right
Understandable smooth shit, that murderers move with
The thief’s theme, play me at night, they won’t act right
Understandable smooth shit, that murderers move with
The thief’s theme, play me at night, they won’t act right
Understandable smooth shit, that murderers move with
[Outro]
One, two
Check, one, two
One, two
Check, one, two
One, two, who got more style than son do?
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