TLC lyrics

[Intro: Action Bronson]
It's me
See when you have this type of hair on your head man
(I got prefect symetry)
You get treated a certain type of way
Pull up on the 37 foot boat
Tan all year
I hop out like I ain't sh*t
Three fifth flannel on, summertime
Straight up motherf*cker
Yeah, you ain't sh*t

[Verse 1: Action Bronson]
Dump Dump, Impalas jump, you get polished up
Lines get drawn in the powder
This sh*t look like new england clam chowder
The Uzi singing from the tower
Stoned singing in the shower
My phone rings one thousand times an hour
sh*t, I used to pitch a hundred miles an hour
Candy Maldonado
Candy Eldorado
Asics with the purple toe
I met a b*tch today who said my name is Serpico
I own sh*t, no carnote
Convos with Carlos
Hundred thousand on the Cardinals
Ain't a motherf*cking cold to bring the quill to bring the heating pad

You Gotta understand you're dealing with some heathen, jack...

[Verse 2: A$ton Matthews]
Our sward the virgin
Suburban she do the dirt, do the dirt
I served the earth in the surface
I’ll put your brain where that curb is
No bricks, no chips, then your friend gonna lose service
The word is to turn up, too turnt for them turbans, get curtains
Lights out
Better trap when the mice out
Cut throat when that price out, what's your life 'bout?
And nobody say, forty cal body ache
Flat line to get the sh*t bag, take a potty break
Better lock the gate for your mommy's sake
f*ck boy, pick and roll, gun and dish
But you know you ain’t running sh*t, but you're good with the lead, word
Til the Tec squirt, expect dirt
Lions, tigers, bears oh my
Who let the zoo loose?
The 4 4 the .. before
Click clack, bang bang
Who you?
But we can line it up, huh
Pop the chunk, drop 'em in the trunk
Ridin' around my city dog I'm Big Poppa Pump, motherf*cker
[Interlude]
You already know what time it is, slime
Go get your mouth hit with a can a beer and all that y'heard
Stone cold sh*t, my G
Hannn

[Verse 3: Zombie Juice]
Spittin' and rippin'
You n*ggas inferior
I came from the game like I'm price on the mic
But I’m nicer than Mike, Jackson or Jordan
Flow so sick like aroma from a corpse
It's Aston Matthews
Got a shovel and gash you
Face covered in ashes, flames covered in acid
What a lonely bast*rd
I’m a lonely bast*rd but I know some magic
And how to make some grams flip
n*gga is a loan
Head with the 45th flight
In the dirt in the earth, 6 feet away
Smoke more green, more murder
Psychologic. death is certain
Democracy never stopping
We feelin’ like 'Pac all honesty
Blood-line's strictly poverty
Zombie n*ggas should honor thee
[Verse 4: Meechy Darko]
Mind games are my games
I rearrange your mind frame
My mind chain, flow insane, smoke chem strains
I'm Cobain and gold fangs
Guns go bang
Weed so loud
My ears ring
Stay around wax like earbuds
And I'm high dog, Air Bud (woof)
There goes the sound of the K
9 in your face
Get shot, broad day
Latex gloves
f*ck forensics
Straight headshots
[?]
That murder game, them car chases
We rev up, no DMC
Them cutthroats, dead n*ggas
Strapped up in that GMC, holla

[Outro: A$AP Bari and A$AP Yams]
What's brackin, n*gga?
A$ton Matthews is brackin, n*gga
What's brackin’ n*gga, cutthroat what's brackin, n*gga
A$AP what's brackin, n*gga
Stone cold stuntin on one of you n*ggas
You and your b*tch, n*gga
If you think I’m talking to you, yeah I’m talking to you n*gga
This a'int no diss song, n*gga
Step your brackets up, n*gga
n*ggas out there drinking Qualitest
Hi-Techin ass n*ggas
You n*ggas is two lies away from giving me a f*cking headache
You motherf*ckers be pouring up a one and a two liter
That's not a three liter, n*gga
Lamborghinis f*cking pouring out ashes on you n*ggas
Burning cigarettes on n*ggas' foreheads
We gon' body in every state, n*gga
Respect the movement, n*gga
Get your cutthroat, n*gga
Yeaah I'm standing at a 45 degree angle at all times
Study your lessons, b*tch
Stop eating that pork, too
Y'heard