VA's Finest Lyrics

[Dr. Ama:]
Blacker than your darkest dreams, spark the greens
Let the killing machine park, part your team
Step on the scene, nigga, it's envy the gleem
The baking scheme can't do a damn thing
Born hustler do the damn thing, let the things flame
Son try to run, bang 'em in his hair stream
Walk up, where that cake at, nigga? Talk up
One blank range, bang the bang, New York, what?

[Mr. Prezident:]
Prezzy keep a bank roll, peep the way the chain glow
Catch me in a range rove', dipping through the lanes slow
Street stressing me, to try to get the best of me
Haters wanna see me put in stripes like a referee
For an extra key, cop back and let just feed
Leave your boy soaked up in his blood from head to feet
Every man I meet, mad tasteful, like a scent of meat
I stay low up on the strip like a centipede
Yeah, I get the gwop, neck gears on RZA's flop
Plus the fifters cop front, do you get a shot
Park in the P's, I'm dodging the D's
I put a bullet in your back, and leave ya heart on your sleeve
This is pimp raw, kid talk, Prezzy let the gauge off
Hit you in your shoulder, then take half your face off
Make it hard to face off, you wild and scrap
Body town stand up, Staten Island's back

[Murda Max:]
Nothing on my wrist up, nothing on my neck up
I can switch it up though, jewelry slow, cop and go
The hammer it just lock and load, I bought it like the Super Bowl
Real cars on the row, Maybach, bigger those
New tires, hard terrain, look around, I'm in the game
Mix CD's, I'm pushing 'caine, had to cross it over, man
Had the white, had the tan, either way it's in the bag
Traffic through the projects, residue and pyrex
Show me where your heart at, I squeeze where ya squad at
Everybody know me, snitches sold the police
All the time hustling, everybody sold here
Catch me with a cold beer, light it like some lawn chair
NBA hardware, momma right beside me
We pump it like IV, money grow the pie, be
Get snuffed like hockey, B.E.T. like Roxy
Been there, done that, 106, one's champ
All I have is one chance, lost to a weaker man
Back to the block again, never did the opposite
Never was the positive, just got it high land
My Harlem hustle in the kid, check how I'm in the mix
You just on the bench, winner like my weed scent
Up north asking, never been a bastard
Stolen cars crashed it, still running from police
Pulling on my dungarees, beefing like we overseas
Rhyming be my sceciality, I'm good rich the recipe
Hard rock and 12 12's, break it like a turtle shell
Getting money in the cold, rain, hail, sleet or snow
Jumps got it on the role, B9 in my robe
Shouldn't even flow no more, ya'll should of been a broad
DVD's in the stores, watch how I do me
Watch how I do me, watch how I do me

Back to: Fes Taylor Lyrics