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  3. Capone -n- Noreaga
  4. Phonetime (Letra)

Phonetime (Letra)

[noreaga], {capone}
Son i zone, my gun is never on safety
I copped the new jordan’s, the white ones wit skate key
{me, i’m just chillin pop, serving my time
Got my greens on, these faggots ain’t deservin a shine}
And yeah, while i’m home you like livin abroad
I heard those crackers dissed you, smack you at the board
{when twenty-four, they did the same to norman and lord
Heard you cop the silver gs, my nigga you scored}
Yea, it’s nuthin, cause i’m gettin bread
Crack is dead, bitches wanna give me head
{you’s a funny nigga, i just saw kai in the yard
He said holla, when you getta chance, scribe the god
Tell kai i said what up, and his sister is grown
I copped the four-fifth auto, it’s pretty with chrome
{the day i come home, i need a mink and a brand new mac
A few jump offs, some dom’s, some beer, and the crack}

I’m outside on the streets, just holdin it down
{i’m in jail pumpin iron son, and readin books}
I’m in the studio, droppin sixteen’s wit hooks
{i’m in the yard in the cypha, just smokin my sticks}
I’m in queens coliseum, just coppin new kicks
{i hit the law library, hope to come home soon}
I just finished up the album, fin’ ta drop in june
{yeah, yeah, yeah}

{my little dun gangstas, caught in blood beef with the kings
You know jarome brotha, my dun i used to creep wit in queens}
And dat’s my dun too, so i’ma find out now
And have my dogs on the island, just get on the prawl
{on the other side of things, i’m tryin to get released
Around my born day, but a nigga keep in beef wit da beast}
Fuck the police, cause all of dem niggas is fake
Don’t lose your c.r., son you’ll get your open date
{dun, i’ma see ya regardless,
Cause i got two violent felony charges}
And you know your appeal is progress
{you’re my dog, dun}
And we gon keep this tight
I keep your commisary phat, i’ma keep you right
{i got the chronic stashed in a coffee carton and kicks
Good lookin for the bitches butt-naked and the flicks}
And you ain’t gotta thank me, real niggas do real things
I keep freak hoes, they really do ill things

I’m outside on the streets, just holdin it down
{i’m in jail pumpin iron son, and readin books}
I’m in the studio, droppin sixteen’s wit hooks
{i’m in the yard in the cypha, just smokin my sticks}
I’m in queens coliseum, just coppin new kicks
{i hit the law library, hope to come home soon}
I just finished up the album, fin’ ta drop in june
{yeah, yeah, yeah}

I used to be ugly, now these bitches is medusa
And guess what? i made you executive producer
Some extra g’s, so when you come home you breathe
{they won’t believe to see me come home to a v
Pigs pressin me, want autographs for they seeds
I gotta c.o. thinkin that we gon fuck when i leave}
Yo nigga think about this money, fuck them hoes
We gonna throw a pounda weed out, at one the shows
Spread it out, in the crowd, see them niggas get wild
Capone home, niggas still diggin our style
{shit is foul, how these crackers tryin to keep me confined?
I gotta visit last week and saw gremlin divine}
Meet timbo and ice, got bent and rolled dice
Scooped, ridin loose, then we headed to post
And got some hydro-weed and we had our toast
{son there’s only one minute left
Son there’s only one minute left, son i’m ghost}

I’m outside on the streets, just holdin it down
{i’m in jail pumpin iron son, and readin books}
I’m in the studio, droppin sixteen’s wit hooks
{i’m in the yard in the cypha, just smokin my sticks}
I’m in queens coliseum, just coppin new kicks
{i hit the law library, hope to come home soon}
I just finished up the album, fin’ ta drop in june
{yeah, yeah, yeah}

I’m outside on the streets, just holdin it down
{i’m in jail pumpin iron son, and readin books}
I’m in the studio, droppin sixteen’s wit hooks
{i’m in the yard in the cypha, just smokin my sticks}
I’m in queens coliseum, just coppin new kicks
{i hit the law library, hope to come home soon}
I just finished up the album, fin’ ta drop in june
{yeah, yeah, yeah}

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