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    Envy / Lyrics

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    "What, Why, Where, When" Lyrics

    Envy

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    The Ghost, Desert Storm, DJ Envy
    Feel me nigga, fuck with us nigga
    Whattup?

    If it's a gun I don't mind to pull it
    Hit your son with the nine millimeter with the rhino bullets
    Know S.P.'ll lose your peeps
    Come through in a bullshit hoopty with the Gucci seats
    With some Brooklyn bitches that'll boost for weeks
    So you know I stay fresh for days
    Tote the gun in your mouth, tell you death is just a breath away
    You alone like The Castaway

    Listen dawg, if you ain't pass a dude then you pass away
    They ain't tell you that the Ghost was here?
    You ain't seen me comin'?
    Told your man that the coast was clear
    Now I'm tearin' off both your ears
    Kick in the door, load the shotty watch the sofa tear
    Y'all scarface niggaz, Sosa here
    So the army and the coke are here, we loc' out here

    They ain't tell you that I Ryde or Die?
    Thirty niggaz on your block, only five alive
    Shit, they ain't tell you that I'm harder than Brillo
    I'ma give your mother the wire, your father the pillow
    I don't play too much, I weigh too much
    And when it comes to the drugs, I weigh too much
    And I don't say too much, I spray too much
    Step over the dead body then I blaze the dutch, what? My niggaz

    You know what?
    I'm takin' over the game 'cause niggaz is lame and everybody's so butt
    You know why?
    'Cause I feel I could, I Ryde or Die and everyday I'm so high
    You know where?
    Right in they crib in front of they kids, I feel I gotta go there
    You know when?
    I ain't tellin' you niggaz so load up your guns or join up in Gold's Gym

    I buy back haze just to get me weeded
    One cornball nigga just to get me heated
    Listen nigga I am not playin'
    He gon' know, the .3 gon' blow and he gon' see the shots sprayin'
    Wrong end of the barrel
    Too bad but I'ma ring your bell like a Christmas carol
    If I run out of bullets
    The ghost is a sag and I don't ever miss with arrows

    Got a old, old soul, I miss the pharaohs
    I am too deep for you, street for you
    Wanna fuck with S.P. I'll bring the heat to you
    Five niggaz holdin' Tec's on a creek for you
    Make the whole family weep for you
    Too bad that, they was too sad but you was a scumbag
    What? And that's why you fuckin' with dickheads
    If they drive through the block I'm turnin' the whip red

    Y'all better keep shiftin' ahead
    'Fore I take your nose off, put your lips in the head
    And all the fiends call me the pusher
    But if you see my knife work then you call me the butcher
    And it ain't no meat I cut
    I'm S.P. listen dawg, I run every street I touch
    And you oughta come fuck with the ghost
    I got butter open your mouth, see if you could fuck with the toast

    You know what?
    I'm takin' over the game 'cause niggaz is lame and everybody's so butt
    You know why?
    'Cause I feel I could, I Ryde or Die and everyday I'm so high
    You know where?
    Right in they crib in front of they kids, I feel I gotta go there
    You know when?
    I ain't tellin' you niggaz so load up your guns or join up in Gold's Gym

    You know what?
    I'm takin' over the game 'cause niggaz is lame and everybody's so butt
    You know why?
    'Cause I feel I could, I Ryde or Die and everyday I'm so high
    You know where?
    Right in they crib in front of they kids, I feel I gotta go there
    You know when?
    I ain't tellin' you niggaz so load up your guns or join up in Gold's Gym

    It's the people's choice, DJ Envy
    Blok Party, Desert Storm Mixtape, Volume 1
    This song was submitted on December 22nd, 2013 and last modified on November 28th, 2016.
    Copyright with Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, Universal Music Publishing Group.
    Written by Erick S. Sermon, David Styles.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

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