Songtext:
[Intro: Triggnomm (Itchy-Fingas)] Folienbeschriftung Leichlingen Eh-yo yo son, come on come on We gotta hit this flight 304 today (Yo why these airline police keep watchin' me?) Fuck them, man, come on (Toy cops)
[Naisha] I'm flyin on the Kennedy airline fog, the demon in me Street life of Benny, blunt go to Hiroshimi Custom mine, all broads be fresh in Versace Vorlagen zum Basteln Dwellin' on the daily, not me, sippin' on Nani In the splills, Jumanji, skies red like Blood Money Scramble my life fully, rockin' G.S. gulleys Under the moon light, sippin' fruit wine Float like fruit flies, dominate the skies, realize Keep your Nino's up high and notify this crime size Naisha in camouflage pistol-whippin' wise guys Supreme large, I pop you to the Heavens of all Gods To generate, C.S.G. all-stars, fuck it, let's take it back to mirage monrose klingelton Street war stars, hate to bust my gun from afar The Messiah Allah, tote me shit from here to Hong Kong Naisha to bomb, sincerely the Don, blow holes all in your cranium Camaro S.S., rollin' up cess, a gun in your vest It's business, so the topic's at rest It's like Capone and Nes', 'nough powder to bless Lace it, divide the cut in, this fresh linen I soaked in it Soon arrive the endin', over the scrimmage Reptilian, King pinnin', y'all niggaz caught feelin's sportalm kitzbühel
[Break: Triggnomm (Itchy-Fingas) {Naisha}] Yo yo (Yo yo yo, you feel that?) {Come on what's the deal?}
[Chorus 2X: Naisha (Triggnomm)] It's kinda hard growin' up in these streets, you feel me? (Son it's hard rockin' killas to sleep) I feel you The twelve on the clock always symbolize you Warum ist der Herbst so bunt So be ready when them hands should just swing by you
[Triggnomm] Back in the days, Daddy-O, he told me numbers don't lie What you gon' try, if I tell you bring me back seven-five? No shake on the raw, no chips off the rock Round the clock dough operate, low aggravate Cream Team's to set things straight Speakin' loud and clear, one point five a year, now we can go there monrose songtexte Make it official, bring in the missles then bring the pistols Ain't satisfied 'til I hit you when I get you Crystal, when the beef was hot, should've bit you The ordeal, kill my taste buds and tranquil' Murderholic, I can't call it, I might spoil it Have your whole team in the court house, clean the toilets Got convicted, the judge says I'm crime addicted Rhyme explicit, supporters show signs and pickets Makin' me a statistic? Hated it and got away with it Remscheid Immobilien Livin' in this game of life, know how to play with it So you could die young, or live to see your grandson The greatest man alive was sacrificed for ransom
[Chorus 2X]
[Itchy-Fingas] Peep the mirage that I've spit when rhymes kick for the nine-ish We bomb then we stomp like the chinks in Saigon My two's sippin' on like Fairytalez with raw deal but it's all real We rock from Steel Wheel to Park Hill to Oak Hill Guard your grill, knuckle or what.. {*censored*} Put four in ya man gut, he tryin' to shine like King Tut Infiltratin' the operation'll cause devestation to the nation I'm prepared for what I'm facin' before y'all's the Tang and Shake game when I'm snatch that, wanna scrap? Where ya raps at? Wanna bang? Where ya gats at? Hiatus, why hate us? Heavyweighters, ghetto classics, iced out, fitted backwards Grey caskets, since they all stress, one day you'll rest Tomorrow never dies, we gon' start this off fresh.. this
[Chorus 2X]
[All - repeat to fade] It's kinda hard, money, it's kinda hard It's kinda hard, money, it's kinda hard
[Outro: Triggnomm (Naisha)] It's kinda hard (gettin' money) it's kinda hard, it's kinda hard It's kinda hard growin up Naisha, Triggnomm.. (it's kinda hard puttin' killas to sleep) It's kinda hard.. that's how it is (M.M.O, Deadly Venoms, K.G.B.) Triggnomm (A.T.L.) It's kinda hard gettin' food to eat The foundation (what?) M.M.O. (M.M.O.)
