[Intro: Kryme Life]
What the fuck, nigga
It's T.M.F. in the flesh, man
What up, baby, Tomahawk, Diesel
[Kryme Life:]
Yo, it's Kryme, all my life I've been thugging
Before niggas knew what it was or what it wasn't
Inherited the game, passed down by my cousins
Look, ain't no tears, when cutting up these onions
Look, nigga for years, I've been walking on these bunyons
Parked with the holy west, now we touring in London
From Stapleton to France, niggas do my dance
They call me, Bruisy Columbus, cause I take new land
I got the Nina, the Smithon and the Andy Garcia
Hit the corner with my hoodlums like they march in Korea
Niggas know we mean business, every time they see us
Ya'll a bunch of a lame niggas getting beat for your re-up
Can't hold us on the block, better get that D up
Tell a promoter bring the gwop, time to pay that fee up
We rock, all scenes got something to make 'em all lean
Come and get your dose of this T.M.F. morphine
[Chorus x2: Kryme Life]
How you want it, we sending you three hundred
It's prey vs. predator, hunt, or get hunted
No matter how you say it or write it, we be the nicest
No matter how you cook it or whip it, we gon' slice it
[Trife Diesel:]
Uh, I am the prime example on how to grind and scramble
Put the fire to the whip when my pops provided the candle
Niggas rhyming over beats, see me, I'm riding the sample
Sorta like the Iron Sheik when he be riding his camels
On the couch, flick a few channels, while gripping the handle
Shedding tears, looking at my cousin's flick on the mantle
Conversating with his spirits, and it's telling me
Trife just keep writing them lyrics, cause fam, they gon' feel it
Took the clip out, and put the burner back in the stash
Grabbed the keys, hopped in the whip and went straight to the lab
Yo, fiend, twist some daquiri's up, let's start recording
Close the session, cause we ain't leaving until the morning
Heat the booth like global warming, if hell's calling
Tell the mormans, the God gon' strike without warning
The most high, AWOL like Sosa
Keep a toast close by, blow your wig with the four-five
[Chorus x2]
[Tommy Whispers:]
Pistols, you fucking with a man with issues
Let it whistle, snatch your peacoat, and hit your tissue
Official, T.M.F., S.S. missile
We live the ritual, same old, same old, sick of you
Lame-o, one in the chamber, I let the flame go
Range Rove', pull up to the show, floating off angels
It's painful, the slums I'm from, a lot of camel
Ain't no half stepping unless you came with your play shoes
Disgraceful, you hating ass niggas, want me to take food
Breakthrough, see what the fame and all that cake do?
That's why I'm grateful, kiss the sky, you ain't taking Whisp alive
Ditch the ride, switch the whip, no disguise
Mask off, rolling right pass the homicide
Blast off, six shooter spitting, the cannon fly
Three hundred niggas is with me and down to ride
Three hundred niggas is with me and down to ride, ride
[Chorus x2]
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