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letra de options - capone

[capone & noyd]
light up! light up! that’s right! bring it! whatever you want!
bring it! qb!(guns, knives, whatever you want)
whatever ya’ll n-gg-s want, man, whatever!
bring money, lye, whatever you want!
you expect to come correct n-gg-!
bring it, thugs, gangstas, whatever you want!
qb, capone and noyd, what?

[noyd]
n-gg-s don’t want beef, they don’t wanna see me
they don’t wanna be with their wiz and kids
and get fronted with heat
they don’t wanna die, n-gg-s wanna live
i know n-gg-s wanna smoke blunts, puff puff and give
believe n-gg-s don’t want it with the kid
n-gg-s rather drown down bicardi and party and sh-t
you know my hoods though be bout this sh-t
my dunns are a hundred sick, thugs who thump, thugs who pump
you weak, we deep, n-gg-s from queens
and we eat n-gg-s with jim, and get em for bling (bling!)
you know my dun smoke more than fiends
my broads fit more c-ke in they -ss and jeans
which is great cause we dealin with a couple of apes
til’ we pull out these eights and get your safe
no masks, let these n-gg-z see our face
pawn yourself, boy, cause we robbin the place, what?

[chorus: capone and noyd]
[c]we can shoot, fight, smoke, drink
jail, n-gg-, bust that -ss down with shanks
[n]we can thump, chump, we aim to kill
thug n-gg- put it down, the game is real
[c]we can shoot, fight, smoke, drink
jail n-gg-, bust that -ss down with shanks
[n]n-gg- we can thump, chump, we aim to kill
thug n-gg- put it down, the game is real

[capone]
yo, yo, hey yo, n-gg-s never learn
til’ they shot and get a jail term
both havin bullets is hot
the average ran by the room
and the city is ridin’, cops knockin’
the streets is watchin’, without shades
i don’t stop, i just keep clockin’
haters played on my bad judgment
like dude’s numbers (you want it?)
then floss for a few summers
newcomers walk in my steps, often i rep
bang guns, still got corporate respect
they think they f-ckin’ up the projects,
installing cameras, n-gg-s’ll shoot them sh-ts out
and get ’em more bananas, you know the ghetto life
jail, blood, sweat, and tatted tears
block wars, every young b-tch having kids
i’m the lost boy of queensbridge, drama never told
been a piranha in the streets since seven years old
two and a half years cold, now scorchin’
like a bullet bucked from a four fifth
grunt n-gg-, fallin’

[chorus]

[noyd (capone)]

yo, yo, now we the n-gg-s c-ckin’ the hammers, rockin bandanas
my whole clique gangsta boy (straight bananas!)
(compulsive gamblers bet the x-5)
(it’s money on the line, i form better, the all bets on the side)
to death n-gg-s ride, with the guns you can get it live
(slain in the public, the game we above it)
and we don’t discuss nothin, we leave the guns buckin’
you get knocked down with four pounds, keep frontin’
we rep queensbridge and you heard of us all
there’s noyd and capone and we murder you all
(leave you in the morgue, toe tag, and polaroid picture)
(if my sh-t jam, and don’t bust, then noyd’ll hit you)
and i won’t stop ’til i get a man, pop a n-gg-
or pull out the box cutter and ‘ox the n-gg-
(who can stop this killa? capone, the block guerilla)
(i snap shots, still got the picture)

[chorus]

- capone

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