The Rivington - Free Nationals, Westside Gunn, Joyce Wrice

Look, Pyrex got the cocaine resin in it

See the rappers in the trash

We was heavy whippin'

Used to bag it up and finesse the kitchen

Feds close cross the mob let the dezzy lift 'em

Told them «No trapping around here»

But he ain’t never listen

Had my youngins kick his door

Now his fetti missing

They found his body but his head is missin'

Spent his bread with my jeweler he made the bezzy glisten

Blood bottles got the pony head

Three racks with the christen and copped the only pair

I put up numbers nigga, Kobe here

Diamonds in the Rollie clear

Grammy weak but twenty of my homies dead

Halla, halla, halla, if you want to have a suite (I got you, oh)

Halla, halla, halla, if you want to have a suite (I got you, hey, hey, yeah)

Yo, you like the bag on my dope

Cook all my dope

I had to get a mote, you took all the dope

Paying niggas no mind, them other niggas broke

Shoot at 'em 223 semi in my scope

You the best bitch ever, plus you cook the best jerk

All pink FNH in your purse, we love to eat, watch the ocean

When we get home, I’m a eat you till you cry

Buy you frozen gela, just for nothing

Shut up your ex nigga, how I was bugging

You looking at me when you suck it

Does your mom know you do that

I blew your back out first day

Yo West, can you nut on my face

I fell in love right there

Halla, halla, halla, if you want to have a suite (I got you, oh)

Halla, halla, halla, if you want to have a suite (I got you, hey, hey, hey)