AZ intro   Yea Devine Intervention   Miliato, Begetz, AZ   Quiet Money Presents.      [Half-A-Mil] (R.I.P.)   Now the twin towers done blew up   niggaz seen the footage and threw up   I got platinum bullets for y'all to chew up   Mil-latin the dog done grew up   is it still Manhatten I speak street slang arab-a-latin   my gunz speak rat-a-ta-in   understand my lingo   I'm from Albany Afganistan   fuck Chris Cringo and Christopher Columbus   I'll shoot scud missles through his kango and spray z gas   on ya faggot ass   Allah you akba, make 767's crash   smack Jesus Christ and smoke a half a pound of hash   I keep a half a pound of cash   I thought I told you cats   I'm not a rapper   rock a G on my chest that stands for god   fuck Dan I'm dapper   prada from head to toe   dollars, cherries in the moe   you fake ass pimps, get my chips   so I'm burying you and your hoes   I plant plutonium bombs after each and every show   so every artist you sign is guaranteed to blow   I'm guaranteed to flow   puffin that magic weed   knowledge itself nigga that's what you need   so fuck you and those crabs that you feed, tell 'em holla at me      [Chorus]   New York New York with blood in your ice   put numbers on your head killa name your price   we gets love where ever we go   cause the street life is all we know   It's all we know      [Begetz]   I work for a quarter million in dope   a million dollars in cash   1.5 under the bathroom stash   put that little ass gun away nigga   step up your murder game   still fuckin wit weed   step up to heroine   cardiay diamond links no more gold chains   vertical doors, candy paint, and woodgrain   I'm the one to watch niggaz don't cover your eyes   so many eyes on my watch got 'em hypnotized   fuckin with hustlers ballin like rap niggaz   throwin money in the air screemin I ain't gotta rap niggaz   the 9 m & m ain't sweet like candy   got mines on me front row with a grammy   slugs on the left and lust on the right   fuck an award boo we'll take you home tonight   milli gates in the spyder with the glass roof   damn near crashed in valet off that over proofed shit, we drunk      [Chorus] - 2X      [AZ]   I got one son, two guns, a couple of cribs   just tryin to live   fuck gettin stuck with a bid   niggaz I fuck with now   used to fuck with his kids   slim dude food never stuck to my ribs   been tried on occasions   I lie with persuasion   hustled out of town nearly died in a Days Inn   breezed on a turnpike   received then returned kites   cold D to O.G homie nigga earn strikes   burnt mics   left 'em there to sizzle for shizzle   you know the dizzle my nizzle   I'm so visual   all jewels tiz you paid dues true to the grizzle   blew a few mil and still official   BIG we still miss you   the games real fical   It's two thou and a nickel   nigga trying to go triple   until I'm there wit you   a wheel chair cripple   It's no secret I'm a keep it popin like a pistol      [Chorus] - 2X