[Hook: Sticky Fingaz] Get it up, huh The ice on ya wrist player pick it up, huh My killers in the cut coast stick em up, huh Ladies grab your shirts and lift em up, huh Lemme see your ass baby back it up, huh My soldiers on the front line actin up, huh Lemme see your guns, what throw em up, huh Lemme see your guns, what throw em up, huh Lemme see your guns, what throw em up, huh [Fredro Starr] Yo Sticky Fingaz, word up I told y'all niggas Yo come on
[Verse 1: Sticky Fingaz] Hennesied up, play the cut lighting it up Rag on my head, eyes lookin' half way dead Brought my thugs to the club, straight off the street I'm iceburg to my feet about a third of the week Relax baby don't spazz cuz he touched your ass I ain't say shit when your friend touched my dick I see Brooklyn schemin', we all in the spot But that's hip hop, we rap niggas from off the block Is it me or is it gettin' hot in here I think somebody 'bout to get shot in here The nine mill guarenteed to clear the spot in here And we ain't get searched kid, we got Glocks in here Someone bring me to the ho suckin' cocks in here I think they trying to shut it down, I seen cops in here I'm the hottest shit Universal got this year And all my niggas rockin' rocks in here, come on
[Hook]
[Fredro Starr] Black Trash Ayo kick that old real shit That Queens shit
[Verse 2: Sticky Fingaz] Firemarshall said it's too packed, nigga fuck the law And the guest list, niggas bout to rush the door Got cats online in ties and suits We come through VIP button flies and boots Everybody gettin' comped, I ain't paying no admission Stick Fingaz, I can't even pay attention Love the freaks that tweek and be liftin' it up Love the freaks that creep and be giving it up I got twelve inches, I'm well hung Nine on my dick and three on my tongue My manager, the bitch name is Helen Wate Need a free show? Nigga go to Hell and wait And if God only helped those who help themselves When I see something, I want em, I help myself So unless you and me come to an understanding You gon' be under, and I'ma be standing
[Hook]
[Fredro Starr] Word up We takin' all y'all money We takin' all y'all bitches What y'all thought it was
[Verse 3: Sticky Fingaz] I'm so hot to death I'll probably get shot to death Fuck who the cops arrest My killers is rough, shoot up the club like Puff Niggas'll duck, chains tucked, Timbs get scuffed I pull a four-four from out of the seat Up out it and beat Picture me not riding with heat Jump out of the Jeep Clear a nigga out of the street Nobody can creep Thirty deep nigga, I'm out of your reach Ain't nothing but killers boasting next to me I'm prejuduce, I hate every color except for green In the club, that's where my niggas jewelry shop When the hammer cock, we don't care who we box So why you come to the club, what you livin' it up Why you fuckin' with that chicken, was she givin' it up Why you even cop jewels, what you can't get stuck Why you never say when, you ain't had enough
[Hook]
[Interlude over hook] (They scheming on my chain son) [What? I don't know god.] (Damn you don't know son? Yo son look man n****z walking Over there son, yo what up son) You know what the f**k It's is, n***a, give me that chain the f**k you thinking? [Oh s**t!] *shots fired, people screaming and yelling*