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dj khaled - no hook lyrics

[intro: jim jones]
jones!
you understand what’s going on right now?
dipset, bird gang, some real geed up shhit
listen
305, all the way to the top
eh khaled, what’s good?

[verse 1: jim jones]
rocks like bolder game
crazy upstate
test the rolls in the lane, racing up the a
we betting thousands on street corners
roll the dice with police on us
slow like the henesy
cold tonight, need the seat warmers
[?] slice [?]
[?]
4 door, welcome [?]
heavy supercharger
goods, no war
that’s for beginners, i’m living like a winner

[?]

[verse 2: styles p]
you don’t want a robbery, n0body trying me
looking for some good in me, lil bit of god in me
right now, whole lotta sh-t startin to bother me
wanna see some vains spilled, sh-t load of arteries
any rap motherf-cker tryna say they hard as me
tell the truth, i don’t know why these n-ggas start with me
i been in it now, f-ck a semi
get a rocket launcher, i better shoot your bentley or your hand me downs
khaled, you should warn them n-ggas, ad an extra listen on ‘m
then figure out who make the paper that say “missing” for ‘m
layin on the top, bigger than a fishing form
go and get your whole crew, round up the craziest
send them here, i’ll send them back and show you what the raiser did
we ain’t getting paper n-gga, you can meet your maker n-gga
turn you purple and yello, just like a laker n-gga

[verse 3: c-ssidy]
any cat that rap, step to me, i’d catch a felony
i just beat a murder, what the f-ck these n-ggas telling me?
i’m not into this rap sh-t, practicing infedelity
these [?]
i could still sell a key
i’m the hustler motherf-cker, i could sell a tree
to the forest, the hardest n-ggas is with me
mad cause they money is funny like bill belomy
and wanna put a sh-ll in me, dog but it’s all jealousy
you smellin me, but you refuse to diss me
cause i keep a tool that could f-ckin remove a kidnie
i keep a 9, the same kind shyne used for diddy
plus i keep the chopper, it pop when i crues the city
just in case a n-gga get wreckliss, try to test this
and i gotta knock out his breakfast out his intestines
said i’m on his death list, i don’t care what n-ggas bout
if i hear a n-gga mouth, then imma air a n-gga out

[verse 4: rob cash]
my bro khaled said “bring the heat”, birds think i got it, sweet
cause i rode with pistol pete, my sh-t complete
i don’t take it, i make it, but you can’t
you can’t slip, can’t even kiss a freak in your benz
please don’t try to preach
you couldn’t even last a week in these damb streets
cause you’ll catch dots on your face, like acney
do this sh-t for fun, you better run like a track meet
cause you don’t want the gun dumped on your tung like -ss cheaks

- dj khaled lyrics

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