Hell Rell - Cock-A-Fella lyrics

All of this cuz Jim wouldn't sign you (All of this)

C'mon man, fuck a Tru-Life, he's a Tru Dyke

I think him and Bleek is enganged to each other

I know what's going on over there

Ruger

Keep talkin', I'ma hang you by your tongue

Off the Def Jam building, wait for the cops to come

Little bum, fuck rap, let' really talk gwop mane

Those small diamonds, watch more than that Roc chain

Pinky cost more than that whip that you're riding in

My bracelet cost more than that house that you hiding in

Got gangstas with me right here oh I can fly 'em in

Shoot you in your face, back on the plane, 'bout 9 or 10

Shit, time to get this lame outta here

They only signed cuz they got Biggs and Dame outta there

We the hottest group that came outta there

My nigga Cam went plat, Dip album went gold

Jay was on Bleek albums that's why his shit sold

Yo Bleek, don't play with me, I'm hard in Brooklyn

And why you keep gettin' robbed in Brooklyn

Ta-Ta got the first chain back but he didn't get the second one

They know me in the Stuy nigga, Tomkins, Jeffersons

Every club, heavy snub, gettin' love from every thug

Waitin' for Drew to walk through the *dark* but he never does

Damn Cash, tell me where this nigga be at

Or do he got a grind, where this nigga eat at

Somewhere suckin' HOV dick, happy he got a deal

Wearing Roc-A-Wear panties and some S-Dot heels

I'm in the S5-50 circlin' the 40/40

Wanna shoot the shit up but I ain't tryna do 40

Cuz I know HOV gon' come outside and probably tell on me

Got rid of them things, don't need another felony

After that Un shit he ain't goin' back to jail

Know he gon' tell, and I got bail

Rest of them muthafuckas mad cuz I got paid

Tru's a little cockaroach and I got Raid

And for real, nobody knows you, how many niggaz you shot

You ain't a hustler, if you is, you don't get 'em in blocks

Before you talk, get to know me money

Your toughest nigga in ya hood probably owe me money nigga

Ruger

What the fuck is wrong with this nigga man

He's running in place, gettin' nowhere fast

Nobody believes him

He's not even signed to the real Roc

You signed to Roc La Familia nigga

Who's over there, hahahahaha

Yo, we just smoked Bleek's budget the other day

Oh, what HOV gave you, we spent that on champagne

And poured it on bitches that we will never seen again in our life, nigga

Dipset, respect us or check us nigga

And we ain't a pair of Air Force 1s so there ain't no checkin' over here nigga

Ruger

Thanks to Bryan for these lyrics