[Intro: INF-Black]
Put your hands up, it`s a stick up, you heard?
Uh-huh, all my live niggaz, friday..
Put your hands up, it`s a stick up, you heard?
[INF-Black]
I`m the hood like weed and crack
Best believe I`m the hood and I ain`t far from my gat
Was taught to hold it down, and never slack on my mack
Same niggaz you give pounds, be those niggaz that rat
The bullshit, you got a deal, momma told me react
I`m from a part of town, that`s real, where you can`t relax
Shots throwin`, always somethin`, get your head piece cracked
The block jumpin`, stay pumpin`, these buildings is where it`s at
These buildings is where I stack, brought out the INF-Black
Rather get caught in the act, then caught dead in your back, so chill (chill)
If peace was an option, and still plottin`
Nobody`s untouchable, keep your p`s when it`s coppin`
Please, when I`m cockin`, or freeze and get boxed in
So many m.c.`s on they knees, now they plead when they coppin`
My live state rockin`, fresh, and still grindin`
Time after time and my homies, I`m still ridin`
[Chorus 2X: INF-Black]
Ya`ll haters coudln`t ride with me
Couldn`t get down like me, get high like me
Competition`s like a robbery, it`s easy to see
Yo, put your hands up, it`s a stick up, you heard?
[Hook: INF-Black]
Go bang, when I`m jumpin` the gun
Have ya`ll bitch ass niggaz run
It go bang, that`s the sound of the thang
That`s the sound of the thang..
[INF-Black]
I ain`t talkin` like I can`t slip, or get clipped
But I`m on point like my outfit matchin` my kicks
I`m cockin` this fifth, faggot niggaz all on my dick
With a heart full of fire, I ain`t givin` an inch
Take my kindness for weakness, ain`t life a bitch
Staten Isle`s best secret`ll run up in your shit
Like I ain`t never been pinched, took a blow over some dough
I slap a hole in the `fro for sniffin` my blow, it`s real
Park Hill`s where I`m from, where killas load guns
And take funds, huggin` the trigger
Shot pumps in your Hilfiger, or the block for this cheddar
Hold cracks in sweaters, next to floored counterfeiters
Yeah, I loved a lot of niggaz, but lot of niggaz I stop lovin`
It`s me or them, so fuck `em (fuck `em) ...
[Chorus 2X]
[INF-Black]
I`m livin` proof, nigga, listen
More jewels than Q when he killed Bishop, play the roll or be the victim
Time`s tickin`, my hand`s itchin`, I`m hot in the kitchen
Any condition, I`m street, son, I`m plottin` the mission
Choppin` the raw, I`ll break it off, through my addition
It`s gonna be friction, I keep the half-sawed, it`s real
Push my limit, catch an ass whippin`, son, I aint` missin`
Two tool for the club and a nine for the waistline
Get it all, it`s fine, just like your bitch, can`t wait to taste mine
Break spines for yards and I break the bassline
Hold it down with my squad, move hard as county lines, run that
I`m your car, wouldn`t call it a crime
My rubber gripped chrome nine, keep ya`ll hoes in line
Treat you like old pussy, cuz I`ll fuck you when I want
Gut you out like a turkey and I`ll stuff you a blunt, chump
Have you in emergency, for tryin` hum a stunt
[Chorus 2X]
[Bridge: INF-Black]
Nigga run that...
Give up your chain and your watch, or the glock`ll go click clack
I ain`t playin`, what I`m sayin`, throw these hollows in your six pack
Don`t have me pop, don`t move, nigga, I ain`t try`nna hear that
Niggaz know I won`t hesitate to put your fuckin` shit back
[Interlude: INF-Black]
Yeah, INF-Black, Hillside Scramblers, it
[Hook]
[Outro: INF-Black]
Muthafuckas, toast to that, nigga
Put your hands up, it`s a stick up, you heard?
