Lyrics
Yo, Liquid TV’s in the headrest
NBA Live Playstation, homicide charges we facing
Half my team in the bullpens they all pacing
DA facing the Judge throwing signs like Masons
Slid the lawyer a check, hundred thou, we laced 'em
Foul the middle of trial, can’t replace 'em
Or resolve reading my verdict, my heart racing
Castro busted at the courtroom started blazing
Like the soul of Jonathan Jackson was amazing
Slug hit the Judge in his throat, I was dazed
And his blood squirted right in my mouth, I spit it out
My brother put a fist in the air and said «we out»
It was two court officers there one was on the team
Fam met 'em in the Mosque studied the same deen
Put his gun to the other one and tore his spleen
We fleeing the scene, outside the court like a rally
Jumped in the bulletproof truck, Black Denali’s
Chrome spinning, blood all ova my linen
We jumped the curb almost hit a baby and two women
Can’t turn back now baby let’s move on
Wit FEDS in back of us, blowing from Yukon’s
Word to the hood we good, just hit the highway
Followed your plan to this point now do it my way
Yo fall back son, yo check man
Ayo Mahdi calm down I need some pieces
Kinda hard to drive wit the right
And squeeze the piece wit the left
It’s only one exit left
To the Q-Boro bridge now we up in the bridge
Went the wrong way down Queens Plaza quick
Hit a pothole spun out and crashed the whip
Backed off pulled off again, tires screaming
FEDS on our ass sirens screaming
Then when we thought it couldn’t get no worst
The engine died out on 21st
Looked at each other like not right now
FEDS on the blowhole «get out right now»
Witcha hands up you got 30 seconds
Trag follow my lead don’t ask no question
In the back to the duffle bag
Four Macs, eight clips, threw a couple to Trag
Two M-16, code A two wit shoulder straps
You know what to do wit that
And last but not least two Teflon’s
Hurry up put your vest on we only got two sec-onds
That’s when I got the call «we need two weap-ons»
Ayo Trag meet us on Jamaica by the Exxon
Got a vest on, you know the drill keep the tec warm
.380 for the kill, leave a nigga chest gon'
The truck pulled up, I hopped in like «nigga whadup?»
My hand out the back window middle finger went up
We screaming fuck the police we see you behind us
Where we going you need a whole precinct to find us
Even then you still ain’t gon' pick up on us
I’m starring thru the scope trying get my focus
Ayo Christ can the devil see the God?
Holla back (hell yeah)
Ok put the pedal to the metal
When we glide thru the streets pop shots at police
Recline in my seat, looking for a light so I can spark ganja leaf
For the victory celebration
The Mac clip made the van flip on the Van Wyke
Fist in the air, there goes the exit get off
Hopped in the Benz wit two bad Puerto Rock just sped off
