Hahaa (Yeah)
Tony Starks, nigga
I ain't going nowhere (Yeah)
Ya'll feel me?
We 'bout to finish this all though (Aha?!)
Tell 'em, tell 'em, tell 'em, get it
Yo, yo, yo
Yo, the old lady said this shooter was five-six
And she don't know, how gotta away with five of them bricks
Across the street a group of men had held nine sticks
Those is nchoppers, being sprayed, and all of them missed
(Uhh) low Boon, got away with it
He passed me four of them joints if I stay with 'em
(Uhh) What the fuck ya'll think?
I wasn't born with a slit between my legs with a hole that's pink?
Nah! I'm a gangsta, besides getting paper
I'm move my pawns fuck around and get rooked
Besides that, any jux session deny me for any stones
In your skin and you get cooked
Hahaa, blood spillin' like lava, face on the hot concrete no agua
Nasty killer with horror, you wasn't even the main entree house
That for a starter
(Party Over Here)
I'm talking like it's about to get deadly
We stay getting ready
(Party Over Here)
Staten Island, stay stylin', boy, turn off the lights like Teddy
(Party Over Here)
More paper, hoes that swallowing, scatter warm and later
(Party Over Here)
Don't you dare run nigga, just hand over the goods, or we'll take it
Bottle after bottle, Remmy, Dark Goose, Moscato
Through the club into gear, full throttle
Players on one side, killers on the other
Hoes in the middle, plus it's jam-packed, flooded
Sweating through my silver life, I might suck it
Mad hoes, got 'em on the string, like a puppet
Party over here, lil' niggas stepped over my kicks
Without sayin' "pardon over here"
Two of my goons seen a falcon over there
Came back with whatever that fuckboy had in his ear
Neck, chest, wrists, he couldn't persevere
Pat riley on his neck, gave up the jewels like, "Here!"
Nickel-plated bulldogs, twelve inch rugers and long leathers
To pluck any bird nigga feather
Staten Island, we get ours regardless
Don't forget, we do the pressin'
Y'all just press charges
(Party Over Here)
I'm talking like it's about to get deadly
We stay getting ready
(Party Over Here)
Staten Island, stay stylin', boy, turn off the lights like Teddy
(Party Over Here)
More paper, hoes that swallowing, scatter warm and later
(Party Over Here)
Don't you dare run nigga, just hand over the goods, or we'll take it
Lyrics provided by LRCLIB
