coney island - toohda band$ lyrics
[intro]
funk or die (sdot on the track)
[verse 1: skeechy meechy]
these n*ggas really hoes and they broke, ain’t got clientele
don’t call my phone, already sold, i just buy and sell
on the redeye with red eyes, n*gga, i’m high as h*ll
should i pop this opp n*gga? sh*t, you might as well
my lil’ bro tweakin’, he just beat a n*gga to death
black and white amg, she blowin’ whistles like a ref
i’m a shooter, me and toohda, ain’t gotta do it by myself
watch where you step, hit him with this b*tch, it scream help
michael kors belt, man, this b*tch broke, spin a left
all this motherf*ckin’ water on my neck, i’m michael phelps
i’m a black belt, draco get to kickin’ like chuck liddell
i’m a young superstar livin’, but this ain’t ysl
in a gls, she givin’ neck like, “you fine as h*ll”
only time’ll tell would i make a couple m’s, yeah
you ain’t gotta get no taper, we gon’ shave your head
shoot to oakland, let me get some pints, only if it’s red
but i’ma settle for some tris, we gon’ stretch that
give it to my mans, he in the kitchen like a lab rat
blindfolded, i can count a hundred, i know mathematics
we gon’ go and get it, we gon’ flip it like some acrobatics
[verse 2: toohda band$]
the money walkin’ in, me and skeechy walked in the building
straps out when we ridin’, don’t do no concealing
could kick the door, i smell p’s, we went through the ceiling
i ain’t gon’ never stop trappin’, even with a million
brody crazy with the strap, he even shoot at children
n*gga, stop lyin’ in your raps, you only shoot at buildings
designer stepping in the trenches, these expensive on me
got some dogs ready for whatever, don’t make me sic ’em on you
red dots look like chicken pox when we stick ’em on you
you can’t be inside my ride unless a stick up on you
f*ck waitin’ ’til it’s right, we finna get up on you
a hundred shots’ll spin you ’round, we tryna hit your homie
two fours in a sprite, i’m tryna link with kobe
twenty shots in the f&n, i shoot it like ginóbili
i’m in the trenches with my ice, i’m feelin’ real cozy
hit the d like, “where the ratchets at? take me to the coney”
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