- Votes:
- Composer:
- Lamont Porter / Frederick Ivey / Kenneth Lewis
 
- Tags:
- fat hiphop
 
- See also:
Screwball - Communications lyrics
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
 Just got off the jack with my son that's up north
 Tellin me he's comin home, and how he's gettin off
 ''cause his game was weak, killed two months, he's back in the streets
 With new plans, to expand, to jerk his mans man
 We had the ultimate stick up, drop, on the brick pick up
 But yo he can't, ''cause he's still locked up
 Jump back on the horn ''cause his vibe was strong
 Contacted the kid and told him lets be gone
 I talked to poet first, yo son, I got a mish-shon
 Grab the ammunnish-shon, pump up your pythons
 I know a spot where niggas gettin it, and we can flip on
 Son they frustrate me, ''cause these niggas pump with no heat
 They play the night time sweet, like they can't get beat
 I got their address, to where they rest and stash their shit
 Yo, I peeped it out how we can creep, yo yo yo
 These niggas stay sleep
 Makin sales, smokin out, and they all get ? geeked? 
 Lets catch 'em zoning, brain under, high and headed home and
 When they least expect it, lets put the gat to his dome
 He stuck the key in the door, we ? ? ? four four
 We pushed our way in, we wasn't playin
 Ready to spray 'em, tied him down to the a.m.
 Now we layin, for a beamer, and some bitch named fatima
Chorus: prince ad
 Communicate for the cake, polly for weight outta state
 Down on digits on the isle with son we can't be late
 We got moves to make, flood the whole new york stateScrewball - Communications - http://motolyrics.com/screwball/communications-lyrics.html
 Time to skate to other lands to put food on our plate
 Communicate for the cake, polly for weight outta state
 Down on digits on the isle with son we can't be late
 We got moves to make, flood the whole new york state
 Time to skate to other lands to put food on our plate
 Now we travel with the ? crills rock? 
 P, noyd, onslaught on the hottest road with a car load'a shit
 Isolated on ya whip, on the south i-95, lightin off and more drive
 ? diggy with the seats sung? 
 Half a pie in the trunk with the music blastin
 Clouds of smoke, yo this lifes no joke
 We from qb son, we ain't tryin to be broke
 We makin moves to where the money's at, get it up and bring it back
 New cats the boogie ot knew how to work it
 Get the money, couldn't keep it ''cause they jerked it
 Bad habits, livin lavish, rockin front and cabbage
 Tyrin to follow the leader, but paul paid for peter
 The dirty south ain't the place to sign, son keep ya heat up
 I'm from ny, city slicker, beat'choo with the g quicker
 Business so well I'll have your towns clientelle
 Kyron but me on through the cell, my ot
 Get that brick money son, I'll meet you back in qb
 See we flee off, know how to gee off, know how to eat off
 Know how to make moves so we can keep the heat off
 See we prefer to skate, to get this food on our plate
 And keep our name low key on this new york state
 You know how ? rule? quiet is kept, lets get this money fool
Chorus











