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DJ Muggs
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Chase Manhattan
Lyricist:William Braunstein, Larry Muggerud, Corey Woods
Oh shit, it's on huh?
This is a stick up, nobody move, get on the floor Get on the walls, take your sneakers off, take off your drawers Cover your dick, bitches, be quiet, don't say shit You move I'mma make sure I clap you then click
All my guns is squeezing, listen to me, before you die Just leave with my cheese, I ain't playing, I'm spraying Off top, doors is locked, fuck around, tryna run around, you crazy Don't even dare, put your cellphone down, dear Before I put a gun to your ear
I'm not a Newjack, an alcohol drunk with a pump I'm straight sober, I'mma feed my ratchet and hunt We kill willies, still hillbillies don't call us nothing else Might have to melt your Phillies
You, old man, sit down, tie up his hands Heyo smack flames out and get more and then blamp 'em
This bitch started to blow me in a safe Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com A fantasy to fuck a bank robber so I blew a load on her face I knew her from Canarsie, used to work at Chase Manhattan Smiled when I walked in waving the ratchet
An inside job, the best kind, I rest, I rob Stay on the ground or you be laid to rest by God I seen big face, hundreds and bail bonds I also see cameras on, I'm glad I wore my ski mask camouflage
Listen to 'Lamb Of God' while I pack the pump While I study how to disable a bank alarm We got 3 minutes, handle the job I'm standing on top of the counter With the chopper barrel staring at y'all
While you pussies bleeding all on my money You fucking up my hundreds Don't get your fucking head kicked On some dumb shit you stupid
We the future of this bank robbing industry Kidnap the judge and get a hundred years conspiracy
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