[Featuring Ish]
Ish:
Don't give me your swing
I got mines and that's the thing
Blahzay blahzay blahzay who name bell rings
Geechie:
Don't give me your swing
I got mine and that's the thing
Blahzay blahzay blahzay who names bell ring
Verse One: Geechie Suede
Now for the grab the stash(?)
To the alley Varner(?) any splash
Tryin not to crash
Swervin got the la la on the dash
Getting bent up in the armored truck
stuck him for his glam
shit is candy yams
Now we movin on the ancient mans(?)
They using psycho vision
For the Valentino Gorabani(?)
Fuck Armani Butter
We above these climbs
Hiest the harbours
Word to godfathers getting bleed
Chasing on (?) down to Venice
Tellin sire bout my alley runnin ways
that's how it was cus
Now they got us blammin at the fuzz
Its all gun and poses
on a bed of roses gettin shugged
wrap him in a rug
leave him on the roof till he stink
Hit the pool-hall
Fled the calico and watch him blink
Movin on Picaso
Painting my portraits and condos
'cause when the Lo blows
Only the Lo knows who doe knows (hey hey)
Ish:
Don't give me your swing
I got mines and that's the thing
Blahzay blahzay blahzay who name bell ring
Geechie:
Don't give me your swing
I got mine and that's the thing
Blahzay blahzay blahzay who name bell ring
Verse Two: Ish
(check this)
I don't hate players, I'm from the crown rhyme sayers
Whatever kid- sayers get down with no delaying
I play my cards shark style, kings and aces
Welcome to New York the illest of all places
I never bleed even through this plaza of greed
You got the rarest, true ain't game in yo world
Not them Forrest Gump niggas with shades and S-curls (uh)
I tilt my crown fly I'm trying to angle you girl
The me and you alliance, is no doubt the fly science
We'll prosecute the phony star picks with our style
The million dollar necks word go head crack a smile
My name is Ish and that's something even in this tish
Of pimps, players, hustlers, and killahs and they wish
Your pretty to me, put in me in your frame
your complex attitude intrigue me...stronger than blow
you know, we can play the scenes like Pacino and Pfieffer
My queen'll shine on brinks three karats and brighter
Finesse in foreign fabrics crit seers(?) tighter
Them clown kids you dealt never belt
I came around swift and got felt
That champagne brand name style got melt
My man Killah Jules put me close to these jewels
that's dropped in the lesson sent to crush fools (crush em..peace)
Yo yo, don't give me your swing
I got mines and that's the thing
Its not your swing
Its mines and that's the thing
So all that blahzay blahzay blahzay who name bell rings
All that blahzay blahzay blahzay who name bell rings

Writer : DAVID WILLIS, SALLADINE WALLACE, ISHMAEL BUTLER
Copyright : Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group