6 Minutes of Death lyrics

[Verse 1: Jae Millz]
Millz break the block down from A to Z
I could supply you with work, little n*gga, I'm like a temp agency
I'm in the kitchen, wood chair with the feet broke
Soft white got the table looking like a ski slope
f*ck going out, me and my money elope
And most n*ggas rap about money but they be broke
My man went to Morehouse and had strong blow
So I had him pitching in Atlanta like John Smoltz
n*gga, money make the world go round
And a stack of it'll make a n*gga girl go down, clown
Patron and Grey Goose get the b*tch loose
And after the crew, I'll have her licking on her sis, too
We getting money where I'm from, n*gga (Harlem!)
We getting tired of your chick, tell her pack her sh*t
Come and get her, put her onto some sh*t, and get her grind right
Get her mind right, fatten the ass and get her spine tight
I'm the flyest
Most n*ggas want a deal with Nike
I'm like, dumb n*gga, I'm tryna buy it
I need percentages, I don't care who the hottest
Little n*gga, I think big like Christopher Wallace
And I won't stop until my grandkids' grandkids sitting on dollars
And I ain't even a father, n*gga, call me Your Majesty
Young, black and fly
And when it come to dough I got a Jewish mentality
Little f*ck n*ggas still trying to battle me
I go in their mouth like I'm a dentist looking for cavities
I don't know why your mans hyped you with that battery
I'll hit your whole team with caps, and I don't mean salaries, n*gga
Already got dough, now I'm chasing the power
I'm the statue, stand tall cause I'm replacing the Towers
And these n*ggas washed up now, they faces is sour
Mad cause they broke and lonely and I'm making them dollars
With enough divas to spread out to ten cities
I can throw assists all night like I'm M. Bibby
Harlem got a f*cking reason to front now
Uptown, let's go, we got a reason to stunt now
I told Joey and Stack sh*t ain't intact
Captains lost our city now we gotta get it back
n*gga, you can take it how you wanna
But ain't nothing impress me for the last three summers
I don't give a f*ck how disrespected you may feel
n*gga, see me when you see me
It's whatever, it's Jae Millz, motherf*cker
[Verse 2: Stack Bundles]
n*gga, the booth feel better when real 'round it
Still round it, dress square but a n*gga well rounded
Grounded like I came home late on my curfew
And proved I was better than most n*ggas my first two
Lil' years in the mixtape league
Now it's bidding war time, I got a Bloomberg league
So the hood's overwhelmed
They know it's the voice of the hustle
Whenever they hear son up at the helm
Son give 'em hell like Daniel in The Advocate
The fans fiending for it, they got the addict itch
That's the bundles, put it all in your nose
These n*ggas is lil' me's, hear it all in their flows
Ho's, that's a topic you don't even wanna touch on
I face-f*ck the ones you couldn't touch on
Hand brushed on see the denim, know what these 'bout
The Antik's, Red Monkey's, or Vi's out
Y'all bring the V's out, I can even splurge
GT's wasn't me so I'm leaning towards the Spurs
Leaning towards the furs a lil' more to my nature
Mink, coyote, fox all in the nature
I get it in blocks I'm the Seymour Cake-ster
I give it on the arm, you can get it from me
Cause if prices was any cheaper y'all be sellin' it for free
Paid 2-3 sell it for 2-2-5
McDonald's is making more for profit off Super Size
I spit the truth inside, n*ggas wrote the fake sh*t
These n*ggas practicing snitching, y'all on some jake sh*t
Millz spoke on it, I agree with him
Can't even spar with n*ggas, what's the reason for a gym
Ain't hot enough to even work up a sweat
I been fire since Wu days with The Purple Cassette
So when you mention my name these n*ggas get offended
No chain on, just a five star pendant
General of that Riot so Squadddd Up
Feeling real prestigious hopping out that Porsche truck
I'm on top of my game and still climbing
They're not f*cking with him, can't even peel off his hymen
[Verse 3: Joe Budden]
It's the n*gga with the mask on that would yack dude for jewels
Ain't gotta say it, that dude the truth, make me put that tool to use
And these n*ggas that be in the game shakin like Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf
Not Tourrette's, gotta rep my team to the end
Lambos to Ferraris to the Beamers to the Benz
If I blam it'll kill, never ran never will
Only thing that bleed on me is these jeans on my Timbs
Hat low, it's not a weak link in my squad
I'm LL, in too deep, I'm thinking I'm God
Far as rappers, I'm thinking they're frauds
Call 'em all Rubix Cubes cause I really used to think they was hard
Ha! For once trust me, you don't wanna start problems
The pound will make you Eddie Curry with a heart problem
So if you on the block with only a few grams, man
Then you a bird n*gga, Toucan Sam
And any beat, I'mma air that, rappers just gotta wear that
Fox Brown should be the only one that can't hear that
Hit you in the spine or the belly, gun on me
I ain't Sticky Fingaz, I ain't leave mine in the telly, smell me?
Thank god he ain't f*cking wit that red line
Cause I'll murk any n*gga that disrespect mine
If it wasn't Fed time, or lock up or rec time
Dude'll be a Daily News headline
You ain't the best, what memo got sent?
If you got dogs, what kennel they in?
So if you wanna get fresh like a Mentos mint
Then it'll tempt those men with clips longer than Leno's chin
There ain't no type of guts wit you
You Terrell Owens, them n*ggas that wear eagles
They don't even wanna f*ck with you
Me, fam? I was pimping weed dirt
Back when n*ggas used to rock Simpsons t-shirts
I'll give it to any n*gga, I mean any n*gga
Big man or skinny n*gga, dare a dude tempt me, n*gga
Auto or semi, n*gga; dump till it's empty, n*gga
They don't even want you in New York -- you like Penny, n*gga
Check the time -- it's around that hour
Little n*ggas, they ain't 'round that powder
They ain't super or Luigi or Mario, ain't found that power
Plus they couldn't spit fire if they found that flower
Cowards, know the toys bust loco
While they trying to dap my hand like the Boy's Club logo
And yea that 5 slide and clock
I'm the million dollar baby, but I won't die trying to box
Don't want a piece of the cake, I won't the pie and all
I don't believe 'em when they say that they supplying the raw
You don't move white, you lying, dog
That's a never-ending story without the white flying dog
Son, these dudes is broke, don't know the feeling of bread
They in debt, tampon n*ggas, still in the red
And the fans keep asking if ya man stopped beefing
I call 'em Mr. Fantastic, tell 'em, "Stop reaching"
[Outro: Killa BH]
Ah-ha, stop reaching!
Killa BH, son!
I'm ready to rock
Yo, ah-ha
When I come through, I'm like...a something
I can't remember
I'm that nice
Like the spice
Ah-ha
I can't even spit right