Governor

Caution! Stand back
Get out my face, you know New York’s like that
From the dealer to the courier, hustler
Send a letter to the senator
The governor
Caution! Stand back
Get out my face, you know New York’s like that
From the dealer to the courier, hustler
Send a letter to the senator
The governor
Verse 1 (Lansky):
Now ain’t nobody bad as us
So much all other cities say we hazardous
New York is gritty like the back of sanitation trucks
Being sarcastic if we ever claim to give a fuck
We learn to hustle, knee deep, in dirt, no shovel
It left us with a certain style we unearthed, women in trouble
Known to channel my LL, when henny I guzzle
Round old heads who sell Chanel bags, a lil less than retail
Shift keys for $ signs, see green I ain’t color blind
The white mans greed, that’s another kind
Want bags, speed in double time, like busta rhymes
Them niggas foul like us, on a whole other grind!
Caution! Stand back
Get out my face, you know New York’s like that
From the dealer to the courier, hustler
Send a letter to the senator
The governor
Caution! Stand back
Get out my face, you know New York’s like that
From the dealer to the courier, hustler
Send a letter to the senator
The governor
Verse 2 (Lansky):
No matter how thick turmoil yo
I make sure I get my cut like a moil bro
I ain’t letting my blood boil
Ya smoke outta foil
If you thinkin ya could spoil my plans
Must got a gram up ya nose
They be gassed up like Pennzoil
Not a boss, no John Gotti
Don’t try to xerox copy
Smooth nigga, ya girl call me papi probably
I’m a good guy, the one thing that’s stoppin me
But the streets grimey
Got me in a spell my nigga
Now I’m a smart ass like I went to Spellman nigga
Learned to look round while trashed, hold my liquor
Plus a nigga old fashioned like rye with bitters
I’m slick, you couldn’t sip how I sip with 6 livers
They sick, so cold, but don’t shiver
I keep my wits up, and niggas know
Only time I slip is in
The winter snow
Can ya feel me
Caution! Stand back
Get out my face, you know New York’s like that
From the dealer to the courier, hustler
Send a letter to the senator—
Verse 3 (Bamz):
Yo
I need a record to grab me and hold me and let me go
In that order, look at me boy
Wish me well, without water while im drinkin it boy
Grab a poncho, brainstorm, thinkin it boy
Hear me though i hope you listening boy
I always knew I’d be famous
I was sure before the mic, it was Destiny
Child of the ghetto but the streets ain’t get the best of me
Built for it tough mustang, got a lotta horses
No i ain’t a low life
More like what the coke price
Went independent
Im my own cosign
Boss nigga, young don, big jefe
I was doing vansons when they was doing pelles
Black trench, fine leather where he buy that
Cashmere, turtleneck where he find that
Leave ya girl open when i take her where ya hide at
Showin off ya side boob, i need to get inside that
The live cat
Papi