Lyrics Intro - Cam'ron feat. DJ Kay Slay
Uh,
how
y'all
doing
out
there?
I
wanna
welcome
y'all
back
Welcome
some
of
y'all
for
the
first
time,
huh?
Killa
We
did
it
again,
y'all
don't
fuck
with
us
Suck
a
dick
man,
ayo
Jones,
what's
good?
Santana,
Freekey
They
gon'
be
mad
this
time,
huh?
Ayo
I
got
my
man
Kay
Slay
up
in
the
house
Harlem,
you
know
what
it
is,
what's
good?
You
know
how
we
get
down,
East
side,
El
BARRIO
El
Barrio
up
in
this
bitch,
ayo
Kay
This
bitch
blowing
up
my
motherfucking
phone
right
now
Man,
fuck,
hold
up,
hol',
yo
man
Yo
son
What's
good?
I
gotta
tell
you
like
my
dog
told
me
When
you
meet
a
chick,
you
gotsta
straight
slap
her
Slap
her?
Yeah,
when
you
first
meet
her,
just
slap
her
Off
the
bat?
Off
the
bat,
just
backhand
her
Why's
that,
though?
Cause
later
on
down
the
line
You
ain't
never
gotsta
to
worry
about
That
chick
telling
you
--
"Cam,
you
don't
treat
me
the
way
you
used
to"
That's
what
I'm
saying,
nigga
But
see
the
thing
is
with
me
I
don't
understand
how
a
bitch
can
go
out
Rain,
sleet,
snow,
fuck,
suck
whoever
And
then
go
give
another
nigga
her
fucking
money
Knahmean?
Nah
Cam,
you
gotta
understand
That's
cause
ya
game
is
tight
Oh,
nah,
not
me
Ka',
I'm
talking
about
another
nigga
I
know
my
game
is
tight,
nigga,
knowhamean?
We
getting
ready
set
this
shit
the
fuck
off
Jones,
where
we
at,
huh?
Harlem,
Harlem,
Harlem...
Yo,
yo,
I
advise
you
to
step
son
'Fore
I
fuck
your
moms,
make
you
my
stepson
Y'all
be
calling
me
daddy,
cause
The
Rag
Muffin
y'all
soon
say
Y'all
fuck
around
with
brother
Num-say
Y'all
gon'
see
doomsday
I'm
a
savage
but
colder
Now
I
rock
karats
that
I'm
older
See
this
parrot
on
my
shoulder?
He
do
the
talking,
I
ain't
concerned
with
words
Act
up,
and
be
returned
to
the
birds
I
return
with
them
birds,
any
28
grams
A
bitch
that
I
touch,
pretty
much
turns
to
birds
I
be
in
Miami,
Boca
Raton,
poking
your
moms
Her
and
ya
aunt
all
over
the
Don
Using
a
dope
then
I'm
gone,
back
Copacabana,
no
joke
I'm
bananas
Cops
come
for
dope
it's
a
damper
I'm
low
in
Atlanta,
get
hot,
go
to
Savana
Rush
the
crib,
go
in
the
hamper
Don't
follow
me,
"Stan-a"
If
you
do,
I'm
blowing
the
hammer
That'll
rip
that
vest
apart,
hit
ya
chest
and
heart
I
ain't
finished,
that's
just
the
start
You'll
be
calling
for
back
up,
praying
for
help
Fuck
my
life,
I'm
taking
myself
All
the
aching
I
felt
In
my
crib
at
night,
praying
for
wealth
Bitches
dissing,
"What's
the
problem
ma?
I
ain't
balling?"
Now
every
ten
minutes,
hoe
prank
calling
Yo
Cam,
fuck
all
this
rap
shit,
man
Let's
get
down
to
business,
Harlem...
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