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no selfies - the lox lyrics

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[intro: sheek louch]
d-block!! ayo glazer!
ayo ayo u-neek (where that liquor at son?)
sometimes you gotta grab one of these break beats real quick
and just body that sh-t you nah mean?
new york style, ayo ‘kiss, ayo styles!

[verse 1: sheek louch]
you muh’f-ckers know i’m travelin’ the globe
and i rock like i’m rhymin’ in the rogue
breakdancing in the strobe (woo!)
pop lockin’, glock poppin’, black stockin’
yankee hat low, we in here, club rockin (d-block!!!)
smokin’ like a chimney (chimney)
smokin’ like i’m in a pool piff for n-ggas to come get me
get me?! thirty on my wrist boy (yeah!)
crash the whip, two hundred on my next tour (woo!)
f-ck we need to talk about?! (ha!)
it’s no talkin when the muh’f-ckin guns is out
can’t rap with your muh’f-ckin lung out
i-g ain’t the same with your tongue out
ch’yeah! we murderers, n-gga
mighty mighty d-block, yeah you heard of us, n-gga (no doubt)
my money ain’t the same youngin (no)
i could throw it in the bag like fab said at tiffany stores (okay)
i could pull up in a boat on any one of these sh0r-s
i still got the money from my last three tours
s-s-s-sell merch make a hundred back
sold crack, had to run like a runnin’ back (donnie!!!)
i’m sorry your honor
i’m married to the streets, so i married ‘juana (let’s go!)
blow sum’n or get rich n-gga!!!
and stop takin’ selfies you b-tch n-gga!!!!

[verse 2: jadakiss]
uh, yeah ’cause that ain’t cool
tryin’ to be somethin’ you ain’t, but that ain’t you
i pop tags everyday, but the gat ain’t new
and you don’t have to believe this, but that ain’t true
i could make you disappear, i’ll vanish you
i’m in the hood on every corner like spanish food
a lot of these dudes is thirsty, famished too
yeah, money, n-gga, that’s what the plan is too
i will rap circles around him and his crew (uh huh)
put one fifty on it like ten to two
i’m an animal, i belong in the zoo
i’m use to winnin, i do what the winners do
a couple hundred thou’ whenever i’m in the mood
cemetery silence when i’m in the room (shhh!!!)
i will pay for his casket, and his tomb
i got him hazed up, yak’d up and i’m shroomed
gets busy with the hawk, n-gga, and i boom
choppers in the crib f’in it in my room
bailin’ everybody out me and my goons
if they remand me, walkman, in my looms
’cause all i need is a little weed in my tombs
you wake up and your life could just end by noon
s-s-s-s-so blow sum’n or get rich n-gga!
and stop takin’ selfies you b-tch n-gga!
what, what?!

[verse 3: styles p]
no selfies, no usies
thinkin i’ma calm down n-ggas is so lucky
charles lee ray these n-ggas you know chucky
homie got life in the cell you know bucky
wanna see a k!ller at work, n-gga? than touch me
my gun talked to me, he tellin’ me don’t tuck me
might sound crazy, only you better pay me
that kid take a knap, i’ll kidnap the baby (word)
i’ll take the gun and b-tt f-ck your lady
‘kiss got the weed, i’ll bet you it smell hazy
i got the weed, i bet you’ll smell sour
louch get a word, i’ll k!ll you the next hour
see your mom later, i’m givin that b-tch flowers
i ain’t sh-t, at least i know it
got a pound full of weed and at least i blow it
got the mic plugged in, at least i’m flowin’
i got plants out in cali at least i’m growin’
yeah-y-y-yeah but i ain’t mature
said i wanna k!ll n-ggas but that ain’t for sure
what’s a bong a bamboo if it ain’t the raw?! (yeah)
might blow the dutch with ‘kiss
or me and sheek louch might f-ck your b-tch (d-block)
blow sum’n or get rich n-gga!
and stop takin’ selfies you b-tch n-gga!

[outro: sheek louch & jadakiss]
and stop takin’ selfies you b-tch n-gga!!!! (woo!)
and stop takin’ selfies you b-tch n-gga!!!! (what what what!)
and stop takin’ selfies you b-tch n-gga!!!! (woo!)

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