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Correct Surgical Gloves Lyrics
Lyrics
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Artists: R
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Raekwon
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Correct Surgical Gloves
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Lyrics:
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
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