[Cam'Ron] Killa, Psycho Drama, Twista, Chi-Town to Harlem what's really good? [Psycho Drama and Twista] Part 2, What happens, when you combine the darkness, with the light? [Psycho Drama] Yeah, I am more than compelled and honored to expel This hell that's inside of my shell for fuckas who want it Violence, yeah that bullshit right up my alley, chasing you right up the alley With a gun fixin' to kill you cuz I feel you was the one fuckin' with my family I roll wit a gang of go-getters, and them ghouls and them gorillas Who be quick to put the glock or the gauge to the gut of one of your niggaz and pull it The trigga aimed, deliver you niggaz these rigorous bullets It's so rivid and to see you livin' in vengance and see the trouble you're put in Fuckin' wit niggaz you shouldn't, these menaces and villians and hoodlums That'll give you the business and in an instant be dimishin' whoopin' Cuz it ain't no type of jokin' or jivin' comin' off of this You done sommersaulted and dived in a coffin of shit So if you ever get the notion to just motion forward and get on some ho shit You niggaz remember that I got that potion To bore your brain in a bag and give you a new perspective on who the realest y'all You just can't kill one you stupid bitch, you got to kill us all. [Twista] What can I say to make you see how the fuck I feel To make me wanna run up in ya home Shoot you in the dome, if you bustin' my body up wit the chrome I stilla be in the zone like Capone Better leave me alone, cuz I represent the city known for killin' motherfuckas Makin' plenty money and layin' mack down Cam buckin' Twista spittin' gritty competition what a pity You ain't fuckin' wit it then put ya stash down Come at the family you touched uh, I'll shoot up ya V-12 even if you wit ya female uh You was talkin' shit nigga wassup, fuckin' up ya Sprewell's and ya new interior detail And a nigga standin' too tall to fall, comin' so I hope y'all can crawl Bloody up the vest all the wall Sacrifice my body screamin' Kamakaze, I can take all of y'all... [Cam'Ron] Y'all niggaz play around, guns I wave around Nigga better stay down, lay down, weigh pounds Put 'em on the Greyhound, ride it up to K-Town(Sha Town) The boy get nasty, To law enforcement blast me Sawed-off and I'm happy, or where the crack be Put it right all for Polaski Cross street, don't need to be said Code red I already got beef with the feds Put three in ya head, from the street full of lead Fuck knee-deep you'll be six feet when ya dead Street sweeper when I creep creep, nigga fled(Flii-Flii) When ya sleep sleep, nigga dead Why you on the back block, fightin' in the crack spot Jackpot, ask not yes why not. [Chorus - 2x] (It's your adrenaline rushhhhh) Like when the motherfucka have to go and pick up the pump To make his opposition chest kick up and jump When you lit up the gun, to make ya body get up and uhh (It's your adrenaline rushhhhh) Like when the motherfucka have to go and pick up the pump To make the trigga pick up and dump So turn the bass kick up the bump, and let the rhythm hit off the trunk [Cam'Ron] Ya bitch is a ho, she chill at the Rucker, you really a sucka Big Will tryin' to grill her and cuff her And Killa done fucked her, in love wit the chick, the slut was a fish Threw her bait, reeled her in and gutted the bitch And now she, up in Pokip's dick, huggin' the strip slick 5th tucked in her hip, she will mug you for kicks And word to, mother I'm rich, hit ya mother with bricks Cocoa why don't ya build buildings with concussion the bitch [Twista] Come and feel wit the balla who's the nicest and causin' the crisis Got the ammo and agility that says rewind means growin' before And this livin' and pause and this likeness I can spit it for some who for nigga represent the call of the righteous Or gang bang to the rhythm when I spit it I'ma kill 'em wit the technical precision that'll be fuckin' up all the devices Get sick wit it like I'm lit off the wet, if it's beef, get the shit off ya chest Don't take off ya vest, all my niggaz make you jump off the set And always get the prints of the tech, straight off the deck Mobbin' up and makin' niggaz duck, knowin' I'll still open up the trunk Guns nigga we get 'em and bust Murderin' the enemy is the ultimate adrenaline rush [Chorus - 2x]

My face above the water My feet can't touch the ground, Touch the ground, and it feels like I can see the sands on the horizon Everytime you are not around I'm slowly drifting away (drifting away) Wave after wave, wave after wave I'm slowly drifting (drifting away) And it feels like I'm drowning Pulling against the stream Pulling against the stream I wish I could make it easy Easy to love me, love me But still I reach To find a way I'm stuck here in between I'm looking for the right words to say I'm slowly drifting away (drifting away) Wave after wave, wave after wave I'm slowly drifting (drifting away) And it feels like I'm drowning Pulling against the stream Pulling against the stream

Spiel' Arba Meyeh mit Zakariye Sitz' in S-Klassen, hinten, pumpen Elqajiye 2 Meter Zaza tattoowiert 2 Flaschen, Bruder, eskaliert Kopfficks, Topshelfs - in meiner Lunge Ott ist Bombe schreibt mir jetzt mein Kunde WhatsApp, Kotti - treff' mich in einer Stunde 911, Bruder, heilt meine Wunde Echte Brüder, ficke Freunde Beste Matte, Kiste Eule, Bruder komm wir sitzen Rolls Royce Taui für die Sneaker, 2 für die Jacke Bullen wollen mich auf den Boden packen - aber bitte nicht heute Im 9-1-1 Tick mein Leben lang Kripos wollen mich fangen 36 von Anfang an Im 9-1-1 Bango kafa derdo und nicht Raffaello Hayat bayat so wie Aşık Veyso 10 Jahre Rap, zu viele Fotzen schon gesehen X bleibt echt, denn wir pushen bis wir gehen Scheine heilen Wunden aber Kopf ist down Im ganzen Raum Cali-Rauch, keiner holt mich raus AMG - krasser Sound, hört der Nachbar auch Polis Amca klingelt aber guck ich schlafe aus Canim ruft mich an aber es ist noch zu früh Anruf unbekannt immer Action vor der Tür Uber fahren am Kotti, wenn die Scheiße kocht Wenn die Kripo klopft, hoff' dass ich ein Album drop' Im 9-1-1 Tick mein Leben lang Kripos wollen mich fangen 36 von Anfang an Im 9-1-1 Relax Flow, Steak auf'n Tisch - kein Appetit In meiner Gegend macht mich mehr Geld attraktiv Keine Garantie, ich trag das Risiko Steche zu so wie Flüchtlinge vor Tipico Mein kleiner Cousin macht mir nach, fängt mit Packets packen an Vor'm schlafen ein Beddua, der kleine wird ein Geschäftsmann Wir halten die Gruppe stramm, drücken 20k im Monat Der Bunker von mir ist der Bunker von mein Bruder Vertrau mir Bruder - doch vertraue nicht Denn wenn ein Bruder mich beklaut muss ich schießen für dein Gesicht Designer reinigt Seele, Mietwagen Mercedes Kann nicht aufhören - auch wenn ich den Tod vor mir sehe