Philly'S Most Wanted - Lil' G's lyrics

(feat. Pusha T, Pharrell)

[Chorus: Pharrell Williams]

All you little G's please, I carry the ghostmaker

You just a rapper, a yipper, a yapper

When shit get tight you let them boys wire tap ya

Don't wake up with two eyes and two barrels pointing at ya

I keeps the ghostmakers, uh! muhfuckers!

[Verse 1: Boobonic]

I'm from 6-0, N-e-s-t, OG, A all day

We're the coke fiends, don't fringe

Try to leave, and them bullets gon to spray your way

That barbershop talk'll leave a nigga laid

Cause I cuts on em, straight off the top, no fade

You hating niggaz put the S in Shade

While I picture baby mams in that Escalade

And give em the lean, you acting out your best scene

From the flicks that you grew up watching as a teen

Meanwhile on the block we gets cream

Seen more than most niggaz will ever by sixteen

Tap the work from Pharrell to getting all the fame

40 cal in my Billionaire Boys Club jeans

Back the fuck up chump, you ain't gon spray

The last nigga woulda been 24 today

[Chorus]

[Verse 2: Pusha T]

Pusha's in a foreign land wit Señorita

White sand beaches with teal two seaters

Niggaz wanna hate like they under white sheet-as

But I'll really put their ass under white sheet-ah

40 calibers delete ya! naptime!

That nine turn that same wave line to flat line

For just the calmest, bitches the fondest

Canary color stones, diamonds look like they sick wit the jaundice

Carefully match my neck like arm is

Flash yellow trying to warn kids

Hammers they could talk least I'll touch the Don kids

We are three kings, y'all niggaz pay homage

EGHCK!! - ghetto Sam Cook

Souls Terror push, my connect look like Pele look

Uh! change my style wit ease, niggaz thieves

Kiss life goodbye now choke on this Desert Ease

[Chorus]

[Verse 3: Mr. Man]

Listen up, this is it homes

The ghostmaker in my palm, that I grip on

Shine chrome, wanna live, get ya sprint on

Man it's best you run, like ol' G, Bobby Johnson son

You get ya back treated gangsta

Since a young buck, I had it sewn up

But now I'm grown up, so you can hate that

Or you can roll out, dope - I make that

Used to take that, but show sold out

Wollen Ave. is the place, where we hang out

Shots rang out, pull that thing out

You better bang back, or put you laid back

Cause you ain't wit that, I make you fall flat

Ain't no comin back, how you figure that

Nigga see ya squad, won't support that, snort that

Cause it's raw facts, I'm hooked up wit cats

That will spit the Mac, outta Cadillac, shit like mmmm...

[Chorus]