letra de international - rakim, kool g rap & joell ortiz
[intro]
yeah, holler
[verse 1: kool g rap]
queens stunner (yeah), team of gunners (uh-huh)
you wasn’t no queens stunner (nah), you’s a queens stunner runner
income, i got a money machine for the wonder (yeah)
hustling the gear like the jeans on a plumber (uh)
four, five, six and put your green on a number
jim carrey jewelry ’cause your gleam dumb and dumber (yeah)
breeze through in the truck pulling the sea-doos (see me)
young buck sizing ’em up, i’ma see dude (pop that)
now keep on playing games and f-ck with three, stooge (clown)
come in here with your facе screwed (uh)
kid, i had a mortician fix it with face gluе, swollen head with plates through (hear me)
see me pop steel, get peeled like a grapefruit (you know how i do)
homie sell, be on the trail with the state troops
i be blowing past in that late blue eight, poof
out-of-state-plate coupe with a b-tch with some great cooch (uh)
kid, you knowin’ how this eight do, blaze your crew
[chorus: rakim]
[verse 2: tristate]
harps and harpoons, sharks and shark food
we the wave, catch a stray when ours spew
colorful images out of dark room
darts flew, passenger injured inside the carpool
radiant jewelry, salute a orator
million-dollar paintings and plaques flooded the corridor (uh-huh)
drip like high-end chic
uptown at a boutique, i fly in a sheikh
bring the concubines, your account don’t account to mine
i just told the personal chef to press alkaline (woo)
turn your onion peel into veggie grill
without a ch-nk in the chain, i broke the levee still
know the ledge, suicide pledge
on the road to the riches, your ride or die fled
beat it, back in the booth, murdering loops
on a quest like i play for the roots, shout out to juice crew
[chorus: rakim]
[verse 3: joell ortiz]
godd-mnit, i done did it again
whatever you revving in, corvette or a benz
tell that passenger buckle up and turn the level to ten (let’s go)
music blasting, i’m doing fine if you is asking
big gold chain with the jesus fresh out of nazareth
big-boy truck, so be easy, ’cause in that stash
is a big glock 40, i extended the new attachment (brrap)
i don’t play games, this is grown-man bars
i’m a warrior walking around with the conan scars (yeah)
same n-gga kodak off or kodak on
don’t have these shoes getting bl–dy like the “bodak” song
all my fights is ten seconds, they don’t go that long
i got a one hitter quitter, once i throw that, gone
but see, me no want no violence (nah), me just with this money
watch your girl, boy, know how i bes around honeys
[chorus: rakim]
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