Biscuits - Trife

Yo… who the fuck brought me this chocolate shit, man?

I said a banana nutrament, man

Ya’ll heard what the fuck I said… I gave you the…

I wrote it on the fuckin' paper, man!

Y’all muthafuckas always fuckin' around and forgettin' something and shit

Smart dumb niggas and shit, runnin' around here and shit

Y’all niggas need to wisen up, man, yo.

Get off that special ed shit though, man…

I said Big O, hydro-face, pass me the sazon, it’s on

There go son, tap out the hash bone

Half moon, he rock, three’s fourth quarter length

No jewels, no rocks, it’s not worth the spotlight

His gun tool, was a half a hill

That’s a six digit slip behind five sticks, eatin' steel, fuck him

We gon' -- we gon' get our money

If he front, they gon' read about the rocks in his tummy

Mouth was red, socks was bloody, fuck all the talkin'

Safety off and shit, crept up, «What up money?

Freeze!»

Don’t move, turn around, act like James Brown

And get down!

Get slapped with the pi-dound

Wasn’t you the same clown?

Uptown, yappin'

I keep big Shirley on my side, so What’s Happenin'?

Try eatin' these shells, they non-fattening

After you digest that, I’mma stomp you bastards

So take that.

blaow, blaow!

Ghost, he still breathing

Blaow, blaow!

Anything after that it don’t matter

Your homies and your close relatives

Even them nosy ass pigs’ll get splattered

It’s the T-H-E-O-D-O-R-E, send me to Iraq I come back with don heat

Teeth, less than a week, they be callin' me

Chief of Defense, cuz I sure do cook when it’s beef

Yo, what up?

Meet, these, O.G.'s, po' thieves and

Baller' shit, long biscuits

Fuck around, take all your shit

Call your bluff, y’all faggots don’t want no beef

Grind your teeth, and just, roll with it, don’t risk it

Fuck around, and be a statistic

Yo, yo, niggas ask why I use my Glock

Cuz it’s 2003, muthafucka, I refuse to box

I’m true to block, strip you for your shoes and socks

Remove your watch, yo I’mma have to lose your top

I’m from a place where junkheads and zombies dwell

And niggas keep they heat blazin' like Bonzi Wells

Don’t ever talk to a nigga like I’m one of your kids

Cuz I’ll cock back the mac and pop one in your ribs

So homeboy, keep runnin' your jibs, I’mma run in your crib

Pistol whip you right in front of your wiz

My nigga, that’s how it is, I get it, just how I live

Cuz me without a gun, is like Queens without the bridge

Classic cut, this is how a O.G.

live

Lamp in village, and still get heard with no spins

This is Trife Diesel, New York’s backbone, back home

Black blown, it’s Theodore, nigga, fuck your wack stones

That’s right, it’s real!

It’s that muthafuckin' Theodore Unit

Nahwhatimean?

Staten Island, live shit, y’all

Straight up and down, nothin' but that cutthroat shit

Blowin' niggas back home, you know what I mean?

I don’t give a fuck… we could take it there

Whatever, hits?

We got 'em, nigga!

Yeah, now I’mma strangle the game!

No doubt, it’s real right now, muthafucka

Y’all niggas done done it, fuck y’all yeah

I’mma get the fuck outta this booth