Lyrics Bob James Freestyle - Raekwon , Ghostface Killah

Yeah!
Ayo, you know what?
Go in all these niggas real quick

I seen it all through a Spanish lens, Julio and Glacius
Penthouse sitting on a mountain, it′s the craziest
Lions, piss striped tigers, coconut white manes
Killers with long coats in disguises
Big biscuit, screw dawn, go silencers
Liberal floor made of ice like the island is
Duffel bags with cash like Al Pacino
Scooping coke up out the water like I'm finding Nemo

Fish scale Dominican Pedro bought a big scale
Bussin′ whales open bricks hittin' in a fish tail
Colombians know it's fuego
Two tons on the back of a mural
The heavyweight broke his legs though
I′ve seen papi walk up on me chewin′ a chew stick
It's him and his man singin′ Maria with acoustics
Plus he rich, his 'migos they be callin′ him sniff
He tongue heavy so he talk with a lisp

That's when I smoked him
One in his hat was left open
So better when his poncho cult was left soakin′
Them other niggas blindfolded and them into the ocean
Drown yourself, I'm from the Stat' what I told him

Nah, you don′t wanna fuck with Staten Island
The epitome of gunsmoke, niggas be wildin′
Hit you in the back of the head with the four pounder
Shoot out every street light, smell of sweet violence

Nah, you dont wanna come to Staten Island
These youngins take your head straight off, that's they talent
Bullets knock you off of these box, no crate challenge
Shoot out every street light, smell of sweet violence

Eat escovitch, Modelos and big Cubans
The bengal is a coolin′ with some rich Canelos
We outta space here with
Our rap and through the wait of bands
Smacked her right on her ass, she turned around
Yeah, let's fuck in the grass
Pop the crib, furnace down in the cellar
Show the flick of this man he had him hogtied
Him and Abuela
Yo, he was still and put a chop on his melon
Had him hangin′ upside down from the ceilin'

He yellin′ he fam, not today chico, Miso Guitan
Went in the room start the chainsaw up
The bitch chewed up his hand
Set it off naturally, pulls it for grams, he came back to me
And asked me, you toast the way you did it was slammin'

At last, I'm sellin′, yo your ′cane is lethal
Let me cop the lan and kept clockin' my gene called all G′s
By the mill we seen go
Hey mama, this man was all on me
Out the window three speedboats

Nah, you don't wanna fuck with Staten Island
The epitome of gunsmoke, niggas be wildin′
Hit you in the back of the head with the four pounder
Shoot out every street light, smell of sweet violence

Nah, you dont wanna come to Staten Island
These youngins take your head straight off, that's they talent
Bullets knock you off of these box, no crate challenge
Shoot out every street light, smell of sweet violence