Satellite Channels Lyrics

Yo, those bitches be in the bathroom sniffin', my nigga
Fo' real!
Yo, in there trippin', my G
Get them bitches outta there, like fo' real

Soul for shice, boss only can trust once
My style? Sum' like Cisko and Gus Blunts
Tracks? I lay some, go 'head, move
Cause if I pull out
You gon' need yo man to pick yo face up
Errbody listen, yo aura ain't official
As my eyes down to the kitchen, my knives is initial
Started at the bottom, dynamite sticks
Dirty licks, stickin' the bootleggers in Harlem
Splash my fashion, early rap all you want
Spit a million barz, still don't change nothin'
Type of man sent to the store for more than 20 items
And when you get back, you just get ignored
I hang around the elders, like grandpa Slick from the Deep
Motown niggas specialize wielders
Paul Dunner and Rum in my passport, raggedy blood stains
Missing scenes from Werewolves in London
British slick with henchman spinnin' from days back
Touraq bells, ?, iced out way caps
I repeat this 100 times, put it on playback
Planet A is the illest, PH is the illest
Turn out spots like gunshots in the ceilin'

Already told you, ten dolla a shot
You ova here servin' these niggas seven dollar a shot, man
We gon' lose money like that
Man, you know I only get this shit once a month from the italians
Shit
Man, you gon' have my muthafuckin' jack list
That's comin' out the check
That's comin' out the check
I need all mines

Smoking weed all day and all night
(Crash my plane into yo building)
We out here ozone Fernando
(Aha)
I see all the premaddonas is all the bitches they grew up
9 mm. militia, my soldiers' on the film
Ready to kill on battlefields, takin' no prisoners
Take your head off, cut out your eyes while barbarians bring machetes in
Turn your stomach into spaghetti
No negotiations its kamikaze fight to the finish
On the mainline bang mine right to the business
That's where im at with it, fuck love! I'd rather be feared
So the next pussy that front I'm a cut of his ears
I do my enemies like Idi Amin, Sun Tzu when I scheme
Nat Turner and not Martin Luther King
I'm a M16 Lieutenant Green Barret Huey P. type
To snipe a Politician in tinted
With illegal arms, infrared goggles and scopes
Survival knife with the compass, box of bullets and rope
I'm just here to fill the Hood with Hope
Lines flew when they finished
Soon as I take one pull of the dope
In my city I got born like the pope
When I was young in the shake, the mayor used to serve the base heads soap
And get chased back and forth from the park
But if shit got real, you catch it by yourself and let shit spark
The rules of the street: keep tools in the seats
Stay muthafuckin' fly from the jewels to the sneaks
And my dudes gotta eat, ain't nothin' cool, nothin' sweet
You'll be losin' some sleep if you chose to compete
Muthafucka
Bitch
GCM up in da house, nigga, turnin' it out