Project 86 - Toast To My Former Self lyrics

[intro: la the darkman]

Yeah. yeah. yo. yo.

Yo. trapacanti. yo.

[chorus: la the darkman]

When I walk these streetslike bambooI’m strapped

Get your brain tapped by fourty-four caliber gats

It ain’t like thatcats gotta learn to relax

If I let the gun clapyou have no wishyou’re on your ass

[la the darkman]

If you see at cat without his vest hangin by his neck

Then la done itI’m tryin to see this benz six-hundred

With a fly bitcha gat and cognac gettin blunted

Readin the tablet of my money from the kids that I fronted

You don’t want itshootin slugs outta an armored green lex

>from four pounds that fuck you up like a plane wreck

Don’t gamble with a techcar is quicker than the eye

My styletop secret like a bosnian spy

Now ynew york have you laced in chalk

The south bronxwhat you thought when we let are guns talk?

It’s bloodsportthe darkman call it like he sees

Been in buildingsdoin eighty in a black m3

Medallion swingin a linxcostin bount ten g’s

N.y.c.where killas bust cops at me

[chorus]

[la the darkman]

New york ain’t fuckin playaswe live gun sprayers

Movin crack frm the streets of manhatt’ to the himalayans

Amadeuswhy these cali craps tryin to front?

Ass gotta cut ropestryin to bungee jump

Tight cuntall white planes rollwe night creepers

In bubble coatseight hundred beapersforce one sneakers

I stay flyholdin it down for my block

What up ock? you could get a four-four shot

And don’t think it can’t happen cuz you on the t.v. rappin

I sneakin from b.x.b.k. and the staten

Manhatten and queens jookin kids for rings

New yorknew yorkthe big city of dreams

Some rap legends were put in jailyou thought we failed

Now I’m back like llwhen he was rockin the bells

Takin rap back to the days of foodstamps and tramps

Pit stains in the stair case and vise-grip clamps

KidI’m ampedcats try to diss the originators

In land cruiserson timbssubways and elevators

Holdin steelyou frontin niggaz better get real

I’m gettin moneyblow my nose with a hundred dollar bill

How you feel? and fuck where you atit’s where you from

To that catsthat’s eighty-five: blinddeaf and dumb

Run and get your gunI come in the name of allah

To my peoplethe inglewood family swinepower refined

You can’t seewe runnin outta time

If the east and west kill eachotherwho gon’ shine?

We losin our mindthe rap shit is turnin into crime

Nowadays soft niggaz bust techs and nines

Sowhat?