Miguel Sanchez

[Verse 1: Trife Da God]

Uh, thirty thousand feet up in the air, up in the lear

Dressed in a black tux, forty cal. tucked, strapped to the chair

Half asleep, hopping out of my seat, caught in the daze

Turned around and saw a white man's face, covered in shades

I must of passed out, can't remember shit before I blacked out

Three more niggas approaching, holding they mack's out

One spoke, gave me the keys, to a boat

Reached in his trenchcoat, and pulled out a yellow envelope

Which contained twenty thousand in cash, a photograph

Of a Colombian nigga with a long mustache

Miguel Sanchez, keep a gun hidden in his pants leg

With armed bodyguards, surveillance around his land spread

He runs a billion dollar organization, under investigation

Plus he's wanted by immigration

Now I'm stuck, crazy look on my face, shocked in amazement

How the fuck I get involved with these federal agents

They knew my background, knew about what happened out in Sac Town

They knew about the route down south, they laid the facts down

Said I had two decisions, take out Miguel and his cartel

Or spend the rest of my life in prison

A classified mission on some James Bond shit

007 style, love to get some straight convicts

Now I'm pondering, my thoughts wandering, got my girl on the phone

Told her to kiss little Jay cuz I'll be gone again

Honey, I can't sleep, she sucking her teeth

If everything go good, baby, I'll be home in a week

Pinching myself just to see if I'm dreaming, call up my team and

Meet me by the docks in Miami, I'll fly out this weekend

[Verse 2: Sun God]

I got you nigga, four-four pop two niggas

That drug lord that we want, got a spot for niggas

And if we kill 'em, it's back to the block, my nigga

He carried rugers, thirty four shots I figure

He only holla at the kid, when there's money involved

They pack shotguns, hollow tips, dummies and all

When me and Trife doing right together, got no choice

But give us ten, like we selling white together

Left side, four-five, right, black beretta

Taking trips over seas, flipping packs for better

Every flight a hundred stacks and better, so grind hard

Get ya money up, get on your grillies, don't mind odds

Fuck a cop car, throw on some chumpers, and drop charge

Hit the block hard, it's kinda hard being G-O-D

If he owe Trife, he owe me

Load up the mack grounds, M-I-A, call that the jack town

Tell niggas I'm on my way, coming back down

Miguel, Mr. Sanchez, it's a wrap, now

Theodore extorting your shit, handing out packs, now

I used to listen to 50 and jam "Back Down"

Now I slang fifty kilo's where I'm at now

Fifty a wop, purple top, nigga, I'm back, clown

Crystal bottles, Grey Goose for the chat lounge

Channel seven news, older dude, murder gat found