Surgical Gloves

Album: Only Built 4 Cuban Linx II (2009)
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  • Surgical gloves, snubs in the grass with his blood
    Homey hold that, the four black, we black down
    Gold Jag', Ol' laughing yo, yo, what the fuck happened?
    They clapped him and the scalp it flew that way
    Yo why they capped him? It went through his lap
    Snatched his Audemars Piguet, took his mango, get at
    He painted it, slayed blocks, aiming it
    Hit a child, this is foul, but he styled with his flamer flaming shit
    Teddy with the red Range, supercharged Kangols
    Rae & Ghost CD in his change, yo, Angel
    Spanish kid lingo, all I know is where he hang though, kept it sideways, angle
    Good brush, tough talk, keep it real, daddy, got them thangos
    I respect on how the game goes, the same goes
    Forget fresh niggas, test niggas, extra bless niggas, with them egos
    We blow you out your peacoats
    Haha, adios mios, we get them twelve a ki, yo
    Keep it moving, slide off in the G.O.'s
    Freeloaders, the D's over, your shit won't sell no more
    Breeze over

    Money, gear, drugs, guns, Goodyears
    All my niggas sit, smelling the tears
    Cookin snow white, it's just the poor life, never living off fear
    We all millionaires, now where my shares?
    (Money) You know the code, drug money, gear money, baby
    (Money) You know we fold the stash holders, cash blowers, yeah
    (Money) So when the D's come, we float and grab the boats, yea
    (Money) Spend off, I got my win off, have a potent year

    X6's red, up in Albany with the dreds
    Bags of black, fuck the feds
    Papers in Aruba's, gold tuba from Bermuda
    In my living room spreads, cameras action, got the calico cranked
    Where the food at? Hood jewelry on, I gots to do that
    Long chain hatchet flooded up, you knew that
    Baby blue mack, stones on the nozzle stick
    Bulletproof brocco's with the Jew bitches, all I got is two cracks
    Gazelle lenses, clear rude wraps, bagging every ziplock
    And my peoples sit around, cops split that
    High potent white kit kats, we sell up in the hood
    Going door to door, every floor, every get back
    My gangsta shit, get gats, for every man, here go a gram
    Meet me by my drop head and drop your lip back
    Forty-seven quick claps, spray off on something

    Money, gear, drugs, guns, Goodyears
    All my niggas sit, smelling the tears
    Cookin snow white, it's just the poor life, never living off fear
    We all millionaires, now where my shares?
    (Money) You know the code, drug money, gear money, baby
    (Money) You know we fold the stash holders, cash blowers, yeah
    (Money) So when the D's come, we float and grab the boats, yea
    (Money) Spend off, I got my win off, have a potent year

    Spray on one of ya'll man, the streets is mine, nigga
    You know what we do, for real
    Straight up, it's how we playing right now, man
    'Cause the streets, man, streets is making ya'll niggas see, man
    But some of ya'll is blind, for real Writer/s: ALAN MAMAN, COREY WOODS
    Publisher: Royalty Network, Universal Music Publishing Group
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

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