Chase Manhattan

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 now 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
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 yall
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