Pour Tha Martini - Wu-Block, Ghostface Killah, Sheek Louch

Clarks is lighty scuffed, need a new pair

Jacob Javits Center, Wu and Snoop there

D-Block pull up, olive green drops

The interior suede, cuz that’s boss crock

Air fresheners hang, the joint is sold out

To capacity, this young bitch keep asking me

«Can I suck your dick?», «Not now, shorty»

«Maybe after the show, just hold fast for me»

Ferocious bangles, birds on both arms

I’m jew-eled out like a box of Lucky Charms

On stage, two treadmills, a pull-up bar

Involved with the lights to give it that red feel

Feeling like Bruce Wayne, making up for never making the prom

Ma, you chilling?

The belt glow in the dark

Where my aunt stays, batteries gone

That’s when I pull a forty out for Ason

Wu-Block, I’m from a gun play habitat

Let me run into Nicki, I’m smashing that

What you know about the ratchet in your mother mouth

Killah banging the neck, with two rubbers out

(Man, that’s murder, you fuck with Wu-Block, now that’s murder)

Shout out to Ason (yeah)

Aiyo, Ghost, I’m going in, family (go ‘head, get ‘em)

Feel me, son (yeah)

Sheek and Ghost Deini, aiyo, Cap, pour that bitch a martini

Loosen her up, fuck it, pour Goose in her cup

Tell her chill, cuz the Gods is here

Big money in this place, I’m balling when I’m leaving out of Chase

Red diamonds on a Freddy Kruger face

I don’t get pat down, you know what’s on the waist

I don’t mean jazz when I say I count base

Fly Louis sneakers, Purple Tape coming out the speakers

Bumped into my high school teachers

They said I wouldn’t be nothing, sitting on the bleachers

Now I’m sitting in the Phantom, trynna figure out the features

I’m a big fish now, I watch for the leeches

Aiyo, I jump on stage with my dick in my hand

I’m a Park Hill nigga, straight from Shaolin

New York is the borough where I pump my rocks at

Bitch ass niggas where I dump my Glocks at

I don’t have to get dip, I’m known and flossy

I’m known everywhere like Remedy Rossy

Never say shit, I’m hard and cocky

Too hot for these tracks, wash this summer

Go hard for the hood from Allentown to Sumner

Yeah, nigga, what, I’m just one of us

For all my jail niggas, that feel wondrous

Fuck a fat bitch, with a thunder butt

Mad groupie love, too caliente

Mahogany, polly with Sin Jay

My nigga Ghost Rider, King Sheek Louch

I’m in the fly spotlight with that Papoose