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Hell Rell
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Excuse me Do you take a Afro-American card What's that? black card homie Hook Cam'ron: Cha-ching cha-ching, cha-ching cha-ching Cha-ching cha-ching, cha-ching cha-ching Cha-ching cha-ching, cha-ching cha-ching Cha-ching cha-ching, cha-ching cha-ching Cam'ron & Hell Rell: (You got change for a billion) What's that, that's the Lear nigga, leaving outta Tito borough Dipset beats Okero But it's bombs away, do things the monster way We'll take your beauty queen, snatch ya lean, John Brunei But that cha-ching cha-ching, cha-ching cha-ching Ransom, Mel Gibson [Yeah, welcome to Hell's kitchen I got one stove, 2 pots, 4 workers, 2 blocks After this I'm buying us all new drops That's right, cha-ching cha-ching Let's go, bling for bling Pay homage to the chain nigga, kiss the ring Damn, we got 'em teary-eyed and heart-broken The Porsche tires burn the rubber, yeah the cars smokin'] Man, lean fast, peel the whip What dealership you dealing with Potangrams, damn, we nothin' you familiar with More killin', killin', what's poppin' 5, the tools out They 550, 212, G-mack, pool out Leave 'em layin', stinkin' That's the way I'm thinkin' New York hustlers love me, like I'm David Binkins [ [Pardon me brother, I'm hard in the gutter Plus I'm packin' all the toast, but you hoggin' the butter Oh yeah, pardon me sister, I slept with her sister And the bitch wasn't all that, I left and I ditched her, stupid That's right, cha-ching cha-ching, spending all them 100s You can be my go-get-man Go get my dutches, go get my luggage, roll it and puff it In that big ass house, I ain't written, I own and I love it] For my grandmother, cops and ronnies Y'all cannot control me You gettin' gwop, good I'm gettin' guacamole I'm the hockey goalie, y'all action foagies Wanna treat me like Billie Joel, rock and roll me Cuz I'm icy ma, Nikes are pricy ma They like me, I'm hyphy, what you in, wifey car Naw, high-pass, that car trash Ain't a quarter million you can kiss our ass Hook Cam'ron & Hell Rell: Cash green, rocks blue, not him, I'm not you The 550, 100 thou, get copped too Flattery, battery actually bred Only charger that I'm coppin' when my batteries dead They had to be theirs, gunshots, that'll be lead For yo' ass, funeral beef, that'll be dead They love him, I can read your palm Like baby don't be alarmed Vietnam, Dipset, we the bomb [This is Ruger Rell, I make the hardest music I move that coke, PCP, embalming fluid Ratchet right here, yeah I know how to use it Know what I do when I use it Bring in that funeral music Ruger Hook
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