Lyrics
Aiyo, son, yo I just booked these flights to Finland
You still got that connect, right?
(Yeah, son, why? What’s popping?)
Aiyo, son, you gotta hold me These fake niggas killed Blake, when he was out of state
Ran up on him, blew his head off his shoulders
Just caught that late notice, got back from China
Big extortion trays with the white lotus
Nah, son, you lying
Word to my Iron
Left 'em in Colorado, scheezing a Tahoe
(Get 'em) it was my physical day, and we was poppin' bottles
Profiling with them dense eagles, new motto’s
Fuck all that bullshit, it’s Black Hawn Down, paint the town
Get the koala skin, german hammer, twelve shot pound
Somebody gotta, from the way that Blake was found
They wanna him cremated, they don’t want him stuffed in the ground
So get your passport ready, out of the safe
Money, Purple Tape, Reagan mask, mace
Head to Virginia, get ready, this is Groundhog’s Day
We on our way, fucka, muthafucka…
These streets, just keep on calling
We gotta, keep on falling
God help me, we keep warring
Too much, now fire’s pouring
Jealousy, push me more and
Violence, be fits, now foreign
Then death comes with no warning