Grenade

Sugar Hill Estates  
NoHo Manhattan  
   
My Queen how does it feel to be legit  
You know I never did eat where I sit when I piss  
Send word out to the Cartels  
Come correct with that pure cut, or I will see them all to hell  
Make sure you strap up  
Those boy’s toys are hard cut  
   
And I need my crew’s eyes when we float down in the dirty South  
Shoot anyone who gives you any mouth  
Gee, who do we know in those parts we can trust  
My Queen, no one, the last time, we thought we were on the up and up, you caught one of their bucks    
We need to silence those thugs, and somehow lift their shit  
Then plug their assess and leave my calling card in their palms, after the hit  
We burn everything, where even a dental sheet can't tell the coroner if it was a clit or a dick    
   
Yeah, peep this, my Queen, we also need to take care of any future threats, we need the connect at the top  
I feel you Gee, we get to him first, even if he is protected by a cop  
We sneak up on his trap house, pistol whip his boys for his cash  
Washboarding his ass until he gives up his connect and all his dope and hidden stash    
The boys in the Bronx need their product transported in the AM  
Negative, that, mission sounds to me like a set up Gee, and its either us or them  
And before I let another bullet penetrate me  
I flow low at night to travel with ease    
   
Gee, I need you get on the line  
And see who in City Hall silence can be bought, I did not buy ninety kilos to transport for federal time  
And keep that shit Ebonics when you speak sublime  
   
My Queen, what about that fake ass poser talking all that shit behind our crew’s back  
Him and that old batalack, word in my ears, they both strung out on the Russia Mafia potent crack  
Do not worry, I heard their time is on lock as street informants by get this, Gee, a cat  
Who? Sweet Kitty... her right  
Yeah, that’s the bitch, she was once a transporter for one of my boys, he said she ain’t fucking wrapped too tight  
In the joint he said she would bring contraband bullets to a cell fight  
Having her boys behind bars, who owe her favors, shanking those Aryan Nation boys, taking them all out, she gets this Queen's respect, yet  
If she crosses me, she will get straight dealt  
They don’t make loyal hoes like her no more  
And my Queen that’s for sho, glamour in the allure, but deadly when settling a score    
Well Gee is our time to let the money flow in as it pours  
   
Yeah, my Queen, its best you a peep in on her, word on the streets, she trying to take over Harlem and Chinatown  
Do I look like I’m frazzled, revenge is the ultimate high when I take a body down  
Cement to their shoes, silence is the golden sound  
   
I need you to set up a meeting with her, I need to know what’s floating inside in that pretty head  
If her dialect is to my liking, the bitch will be on my payroll, aiming and pumping lead  
I heard that hoe been trying to cash in on my name, with that fake, lame, kitty cat game  
Let’s see if she is worth the hype  
If not, then what, my Queen, she is considered a menace, one of those deadly type  
Just know we won't be sitting around smoking a peace pipe  
   
We pimp her ass, to sell our dope  
No one infiltrates me and stick around to gloat  
Oh, Gee, welcome to the Big Apple, we sitting at the head table now, it's time we get paid  
Anybody get in our way, a casket is where their bloody hacked up body will be laid  
   
Done, my Queen, let me move out on this..    
Oh, shit Gee...word of advice, keep your head up and we get a pass from any Blood or Crip  
Since we are in New York make sure your steel is always in your hand  
Watch your back Gee, life here is a bitch and motherfuckas fall under when they don't shoot or demand    
You my right hand man, and trust no one where you shit or stand  
Word Up  
Ashes to ashes dust to dust, my crew leave in body bags not handcuffs